Weak
by loosedefense
Summary: When Vlad Masters decides to give up his life as a ghost, Danny desperately tries to prevent the others from filling up the void of power left by him. Eventual Danny/Dash slash.
1. If You Surrender To Me

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

"A little bit more cover, Tuck!" Danny Phantom yelled down to the other boy as he crouched down on the branch of a tree as an enormous goo-dripping tentacle swung around to hit him. Jumping up, the boy with the white hair sailed upwards instead of plunging down, and hovering in the sky above the head of the practically shapeless blob which was currently snapping its jaws, eyes fixated on him. The tentacle came crashing down heavily, snapping the branch of the tree.

"I'm trying!" Tucker Foley shouted back, looking miniscule in comparison to the ghost. Snapping a twig off the fallen branch, he raised his hand whistling to the ghost. "Here ugly, ugly, ugly," he chanted. "Come here boy." When receiving no response, Tucker tossed the twig at its body, which sunk into the ectoplasm.

"Ew," he said, lip curling. Danny rolled his eyes and reached for the Fenton Thermos, prepared to put the ghost away, when yet another tentacle snuck up on him and slapped him away, causing the Thermos to slip out of his hands. Before it smashed down upon the ground, however, it was caught by a deft pair of hands. Tucker let out a sigh of relief as Sam Manson held it up, a confident smile on her face.

Her confidence was soon shaken though as the beast let out a roar. "Danny!" she called.

Raising himself up to a sitting position, Danny let out a small groan and shook his head to clear it. The roar had woken him up some, and he dashed over to Sam and grabbed the Thermos, uttering a quick thanks, before aiming it as the green ghost and unscrewing the cap. Instantly light poured out and surrounded the ghost and began sucking it into the Thermos. As it let out a last confused roar, the sound minimized as it disappeared into the container, Danny placed the cap back into place before shooting a glare at Tucker.

"I'm really more of a tech guy," the black boy offered meekly.

----------------------------

It was nearly five o'clock when eighteen-year-old Danny Fenton finally arrived at his home after having served the day's detention, grumbling to himself about the unfairness of his Biology lecturer. Sure, he may have fallen asleep in the class, but the man could have at least woken him up before asking the question. Danny was sure that he had asked it simply because he knew the boy would not be able to answer as he had been snoozing. _Anything to send me to detention_, Danny rolled his eyes.

Getting out of the ratty old red car his parents had bought for him – partly because Jack had fallen in love with it at the second hand store as it had reminded him of the ratty old car _he_ used to drive back when he was in college – Danny gave himself a mental kick in the head for having been so stupid as to fall asleep in class. It didn't happen often, but every once in a while he could be found either hunting ghosts until the early morning to the point where he wouldn't go to sleep even after having finished for fear of sleeping through his alarm and missing school or tossing and turning after a particularly hard day or night trying to get to sleep. The end result was, to say the least, undesirable.

"It was so absolutely …" Danny said under his breath, opening the door and freezing for a moment as he noticed his archrival Vlad Masters, his parents old college mate who had gone on to become a silver-haired billionaire living in Wisconsin, sitting down in the living room chatting away with his parents, a rather forced smile on his face.

"…wonderful," Danny's eyelids drooped.

"Ah, Daniel!" Vlad got to his feet, the three of them having turned to him when the door opened. "How nice to see you again. Though I didn't expect to see you back so … late."

"Yes," Danny's mother Maddie frowned at her son. "What took you so long, Danny?"

"Um …" his parents would kill him if they found out that Danny had gotten detention again. "Sorry, I was hanging out with," he struggled to come up with a name, "Sam."

Not being extremely popular, Danny only had two real friends to fall back on, especially when it came to excuses of being over at one's house. Tucker Foley was, frankly, closer to Danny and the Fentons, and he did not want to run the risk of his parents bringing up the issue with Tucker's and blowing his cover; Sam and her family were not as close to them, and Danny knew that if his parents were to ever ask, they would only ask Sam, who would realize the excuse as soon as she heard it and back it up.

It seemed to satisfy his parents, who nodded and turned back to Vlad. Danny took this as his cue to go upstairs to his room, where he dumped his bag on the chair by his desk and closed his eyes as a thick ring appeared around the center of his body and split into two as each went in a separate direction, changing him into his alter ego of Danny Phantom.

Clenching his fists, ready to fight at any moment, Danny felt himself turn intangible and invisible as he floated down from his room to hover near the ceiling of the living room, where Vlad and his parents were still conversing. He wondered what he was doing here. Vlad didn't visit often; when he did, it usually meant big trouble for Danny, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for whatever catastrophe it was that Vlad wanted his help on. Of course, Danny supposed, it could also be his run-on-the-mill plan to displace Jack as head of the Fenton family, take Maddie for his own, and implore Danny once again to join forces with him.

Vlad let out an easy laugh to what Maddie had said and got up to excuse himself. "I have a little gift for Daniel that I had forgotten to give him when he came in," he explained. "I really ought to do it now before I forget again."

"Alright," Jack said, standing up as well. "I just need to use the little ghostcatcher's room."

Danny slapped a hand to his head in embarrassment.

"Danny's room is upstairs and to the left, Vlad," Maddie smiled, getting up along with Jack. "I'll just go and fetch us more drinks while you're up there."

With that, Danny floated back up to his room and had himself turn corporeal again, waiting to see what Vlad wanted.

It was only a moment before Vlad pushed the door open without knocking, smirking at Danny standing defiantly in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest, in full Phantom gear. "Hello, Daniel."

"What are you doing here, Plasmius?" Danny question, hovering a few inches of the air in attempt to see a bit more intimidating, although it was nothing the other man hadn't seen already, being half-ghost himself.

Vlad waved his hand dismissively. "That just so happens to be the case, Daniel, although I do appreciate the fact that you're starting to be a little bit more suspicious. Good to keep on your toes and all that, what with all those enemies you've made over the years."

Danny rolled his eyes in response.

"I've come to tell you that you have nothing to fear," Vlad continued. "Well, not from me, anyway." He pulled up a black briefcase from the floor, which Danny had somehow missed, holding it up for the ghost boy to see. "I am, unfortunately, giving up my life as a half-ghost."

Danny raised his eyebrow skeptically. "What?"

"Yes," Vlad nodded, setting the briefcase down again.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Danny asked, completely confused.

Vlad let out a small sigh, taking a seat on Danny's bed. Danny tensed up again, expect him to pull some sort of surprise move.

"Oh, would you just relax?" Vlad asked in an annoyed tone. "I already told you that you have nothing to fear, Daniel, and I am a man of my word."

"Oh, yeah, right," Daniel snorted. "Like I believe _that_."

"It's true," Vlad said. "I may find occasional … loopholes to work through, but I assure you, I can think of no way to work around this statement without completely going against it."

Deciding to give Vlad the benefit of the doubt for the moment, partly because he was afraid he wouldn't elaborate on what he meant about giving up his life as a ghost unless he changed back to his human self, Danny decided to transform. Yet, he was not about to put his guard down.

"I don't suppose you've heard of heart murmurs, have you?" Vlad asked. Danny shook his head mutely. "No, I didn't expect so."

Vlad looked toward the door, getting up to quickly lock it before getting back to his position on Danny's bed.

"A few months ago, I had gone for a doctor's appointment," he explained. "A routine medical checkup, after all, at this age, we ought to start taking better care of ourselves … not like your bloated father," Danny heard him mutter the last part, but decided to let it slide. "The doctor that inspected me had heard an 'abnormal sound' when he was using his stethoscope. After some testing, he diagnosed it as a heart murmur. He told me that it could eventually lead to heart failure, although they're still inspecting that further." Danny had to admit he was impressed at how steady Vlad's voice and straight his posture was throughout the story.

"In any case, they will require that I undergo constant medical attention," Vlad continued. "I cannot risk exposing my ghost half, not unless I want to spend the remainder of my days as a laboratory experiment.

"And," he sighed, dropping his head for the first time during the entire story, "It allowed me to truly consider my life and what to do with it now that I may be on a clock, and if this is inevitable, Daniel, and it will be, regardless of whether or not the heart murmurs pose a threat – I do not want to spend the rest of my life switching back and forth between these two entities anymore. Bad enough I have to spend all this time going to and from the hospital, watching others trying to determine whether or not I will live past a handful of years."

Danny stood there, stunned. It took a moment before he was able to open his mouth and speak. "Um, so that's what you're doing here?" he rasped out, and cringed slightly at how he sounded. "To say goodbye to my parents … and me?"

"Oh, not just yet, no," Vlad let out a humorless little laugh. "I would rather wait until the results are more conclusive before worrying anyone else just yet. But I _did_ come here to see you."

Once again, he raised the briefcase, and set it on the bed and unlocked it. Danny peered inside, curious, and found a long rectangular object lying inside with a lone green button on the top. Vlad grasped it and pulled it out.

"It follows, I suppose, the same mechanics as that little thermos you use to capture the ghosts you come across during your huntings," Vlad explained. "Once I had exorcised the ghost half out of my body using a device not unlike the Dreamcatcher device your parents built for spirits, I trapped it in this."

He thrust the hand holding the contraption out to Danny, who involuntarily took a step back. "You are the only person I can trust with it." Vlad said. "I would have no ghost touch it, as it would only serve to increase their power. You know the importance of such a thing, and as you oppose ghosts regularly, I can think of no safer guardian."

Danny stared at Vlad, unsure what to say, but slowly reached out and took the object. Looking down at it, it was strange to believe that it contained a ghost in it, let alone the spirit of the only man who was alike to him. It _was_ the thing that made the man alike to him. Danny could not believe that Vlad was ending his life as a ghost and his nemesis in turn.

"Well, I suppose that's it." Vlad said. Nodding at Danny, he headed for the door. Danny, realizing he was leaving, went with him. Opening it and stepping outside, Vlad turned back to Danny and fixed him with a level stare. "I should also tell you," he said to the teenager quietly, "it felt only appropriate to finally surrender my half to you."

Danny mulled over the words as Vlad closed the door softly, gripping and gently squeezing the box in his hand. Though it sounded as a normal statement, Danny had not faced Vlad Masters for four years to not realize a compliment from him when he received one.


	2. Only Tell Lies

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

"He's probably lying, you know."

Danny Fenton raised his head to look at his friend Sam Manson. She was leaning against the wall of his bedroom, looking down at the small black device in Danny's hand with a mix of skepticism and bored interest. Tucker Foley, who sat next to Danny on his bed, raised his eyebrow.

"Why would he be lying?" Danny sighed. It had been two days since the Fentons' had been visited by Vlad Masters, and two days since Vlad had handed over the device sitting in Danny's hand right now, claiming that it bore the spirit of the ghost he had harbored inside him for over twenty years and no longer wished to keep; Danny had just gotten through relaying the whole story to his two friends a few minutes ago and had been waiting to hear their thoughts on it.

Sam rolled her eyes and raised her hands in exasperation. "Duh! It could easily be one of his traps in order to capture you while you're off-guard."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Danny argued. "Even if Vlad wanted to throw me off-guard, there is absolutely no way for him to get around my ghost sense." He had arrived to this conclusion quickly because, even though he wouldn't admit it to Sam, that had been one of the first thoughts that entered his head as he contemplated this new twist of being the guardian of the spirit of his nemesis.

"Maybe it's meant to suck out your ghost sense," Tucker suggested, looking at the device closer. His eyes widened. "Maybe it's meant to suck your ghost half in!"

Danny promptly dropped the machine on the mattress, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Well, even if he is telling the truth," Sam said, "what does he expect you do, put it in your closet?"

"He wants me to safeguard it," Danny shrugged. "I guess it makes sense. I mean, without being a ghost, Vlad is just an aging man. He can't trust a ghost with it; I guess I'm the only one around who can do it."

"That's going to be one hell of a burden," Tucker commented, picking up the device again.

"I don't really think so," Danny replied, unconsciously moving slightly further away from Tucker and the mechanism. "I can't imagine a ghost going after a spirit or whatever Plasmius is now. Anyway, I doubt many ghosts would know he's given up his power."

"So what are you going to do with it?" Tucker asked.

Danny shrugged. "I haven't really thought about it. All I know is that I can't have anyone find it."

"Maybe you should open it," Tucker told him. "I mean, Vlad said that it would give an extra dose of power, right? You could always use it to heighten your powers."

"That's not a bad idea," Sam added, nodding. "You could get stronger. That's always a plus."

Danny opened his mouth to snap at them about what a _terrible_ idea it was, but then remembered that they did not know the dangers of mixing his ghost self with Vlad Plasmius; he could still remember the chilling story of how Vlad's evil alter ego had taken over his own and created the Phantom, too strong to be beaten, and who killed as though it were the most natural act in the world.

"Or it could overshadow me and take over," Danny said reproachfully, changing his argument at the last moment. There was no need to go into the gory details of the origin of the Phantom, not when they did not have to know it. Clcokwork, the master of time, had made it so that his friends thought Danny had destroyed the Phantom, and as far as Danny was concerned, that's how the story went … unless proven otherwise.

Tucker and Sam seemed to concede to this explanation and left the subject alone.

------------------------------------------

As the final bell rang, Danny trudged out of the Literature class he shared with Sam and Tucker listlessly. The two of them were busy having a conversation about the papers they were due to hand in for their History class on World War II and America's involvement as they walked behind him, neither paying attention to him and Danny in turn hardly focusing on anything aside from getting to his locker and heading home. All he wanted to do was collapse on the couch and not move for six hours.

Reaching his locker, Danny's hand reached up to enter the combination, but he still had the presence of mind to pause and look around to make sure that the area was clear of jocks or any other potential bullies who would once again attempt to see if it was possible for a "scrawny loser freak" to survive in close environments, which a locker just so happened to conveniently provide.

Satisfied that no one was around, Danny began to turn the lock.

"Incoming!"

The next thing he knew, Danny had let out an "Oof!" and was lying dazed on the linoleum. Shaking his head as if to clear it, his blue eyes traveled up and rested upon the smirking face of Dash Baxter.

_Of course_, Danny sighed inwardly.

"Oops, sorry about that," Dash smirked, placing his hands on his slim hips, smirking wide and not looking very sorry at all. Before Danny could stand up to snap at the boy, he saw two more jocks, Kwan and someone whose name he never bothered to know, round behind Dash.

Letting out a little choke as Dash's hand firmly wrapped around the front of his white shirt, taking a little bit of Danny's skin with it, Danny felt himself rise from the ground and slammed against the cool metal of the row of lockers behind him.

Where the hell were the teachers? It had only been two minutes since the bell had rung.

Barely registering what Dash was saying, something about how nice it was to run into him, and how he had better hope that the football wasn't damaged – or contaminated – from touching him, Danny heard the familiar sound of a locker door being pulled open, and, closing his eyes, was surrounded by darkness.

Again.

_Idiots_.

Shoulders slumping, Danny considered changing into his ghost form and getting back at Dash, but then decided against it as he realized he was far too tired to put up with it right now. All he wanted was to get home.

However, unless he wanted to risk an ugly confrontation with Dash and his army of pig brethren regarding how he had gotten out of his locker so soon without their notice, Danny decided to stay in the locker a bit longer. He could still hear the jocks outside. He just wished that he could go intangible in order to get in a bit more comfortable position, but the locker door was still open, Danny knew, and he couldn't risk them opening it for possibly further torture to find it empty.

Finally, squished inside, seething over Sam and Tucker's strange disappearance – not that they would be willing to fight Dash and his friends for him anyway – and the all-too-familiar missing intervention from the teachers even though all of them had to still be in the building, Danny heard the jocks cut the laughter short outside as Dash announced that he had to go.

Hearing separate footsteps, Dash walking one way and the other two another, Danny closed his eyes once again as he had himself turn intangible. Taking a moment to stretch, his arms spreading through the walls of his locker to linger the ones next to it, Danny floated out the door and into the first empty classroom he found and popped back to his fully physical self.

Stepping out, feeling slightly better if only due to the fact that the jocks were done with him for the day, Danny was about to round the corner when he heard a sharp voice ring out, "Mister Fenton!"

Freezing, Danny turned around to look at the bald, pudgy, and slightly squinty-eyed teacher who had boomed out.

"Mister Lancer," Danny greeted nervously. He quickly scanned his mind to see what he had done wrong recently. He had no detentions to serve for the day, had managed to hand in almost all his assignments – and the one he didn't he had managed to get an extension of two days to complete, so that couldn't be the problem – and he didn't recall doing anything too wrong recently.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Mr. Lancer's raised his eyebrow, folding his arms around his chest.

"Um …" Danny stalled.

"As I recall, you are meant to have a meeting today with Mister Connor, are you not, _Mister_ Fenton?" Lancer pressed, putting an emphasis on the word 'mister'. Danny hated it when he did that. It made him feel as though he didn't deserve the title, not that it didn't feel completely weird to be referred to as a 'mister' in the first place.

"Right!" Danny said, feeling any residue of his slightly good mood deflate at the reminder. "Uh, I was just about to head there right now, actually … sir."

Lancer raised his eyebrow again. "Mister Connor's office is _this_ way, Fenton," he said, jutting his thumb over his shoulder in the completely opposite direction of where Danny had been heading when he found him.

"I know," Danny defended himself. "I was just," he stalled, "trying to find Sam and Tucker."

"You are five minutes late, Mister Fenton," Lancer barked. "I suggest you forget your friends and _get a move on!_"

"Yes, sir!" Danny jumped from the tone of the older man's voice, and rushed off to find Connor's office.

"And no running in the halls!" Lancer called after him.

Slowing down to a jogging pace and gradually to a walk, Danny arrived outside the office. Connor was the guidance counselor who had been hired a little over two years ago. He didn't remember the appointment, but Danny figured that it must have been the one he had with the seniors every year. The school year was already half-over, and Danny knew that it was about this time that the school had the counselor arrange meetings with the seniors to find out how they were getting on, whether they were on the right track with college applications and if they knew what they wanted to do after they had graduated.

Knocking on the door, he heard a friendly voice on the other side, "Come in!"

Mr. Connor was a little on the stocky side, but the man had an open face with a smile on it that was sometimes painfully obvious that it was forced. "Ah, Danny," he said as the boy walked in. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure."

"Er, no," Danny said, feeling uncomfortable.

"Oh, sit, sit," Connor offered, gesturing to the chair that was in front of him. Danny plopped down and nervously wiped his hands on his jeans.

"Well, I suppose you know what you're here for," Connor started.

"College." Danny replied monotonously.

"Precisely," Connor said, his face breaking out into an even bigger grin. "'The Talk'"

At Danny's confused look, Connor shook his head. He really had to drop that joke; no one ever seemed to find it funny.

"So," Connor drew his chair close to the desk, placing his clasped arms on the table, "tell me, what are your plans for when you graduate?"

He waited for the blank look that met his question to pass. Many students gave him that look when presented with such bluntness.

"Um …" Danny began, trying to come up with something. Meeting Connor's eyes, he offered a meek shrug.

"No colleges lined up? No applications ready?" Connor pressed.

"Not really," Danny mumbled, looking at the ground as he ran his hand through the hair on the back of his head nervously.

"Well, it is a big decision," Connor comforted. "Have you perhaps tried to come up with a list of schools you might be interested in?"

"No?" it was more of a question than an answer.

"I see," Connor nodded slowly. "Of course there's still time … most colleges have a deadline as far as July, and it's only February."

There was a heavy silence in the room. Danny was still looking at the ground, hands on his lap, shoulders drooped.

"How about I look into your grades," Connor offered. "You have to remember, every student is an individual, and that's what colleges look for. You are special."

"You have no idea," Danny muttered darkly.

Connor found Danny's file in his cabinet and glanced through the papers.

A shocked silence descended upon them.

"Well …" Connor cleared his throat. Danny rolled his eyes.

"Your grades aren't spectacular," he announced. "Your exam scores – they could be better."

"Sorry," Danny offered.

"Periodic absenteeism, that won't do," Connor tutted, not taking his eyes off the papers in front of him. Finally he looked up and faced Danny in the eye. "Have you considered retaking your SAT exams?"

Danny shuffled his feet. "Do I need to?"

"They're not that bad," Connor quickly added. "You scored an 1830 out of 2400, it could be better. But your school record does leave a lot to be desired. I'm just worried that coupled with it, your SAT results might not hold up as much."

Danny slouched in his seat. "What if I do worse?" he asked. "It's too late to pull up the rest of my grades."

"Try being optimistic, Danny," Connor enthused. At the dirty look he got from the teen, he turned back towards the file. "I notice that you don't have any extra-curricular activities."

"I never really had time for any," Danny rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"Really? What do you do that keeps you so occupied?"

Danny hesitated. "Homework," he replied.

"Really." Connor drawled in a tone that told Danny that he didn't buy it. "Then why is it that I have received several reports from your teacher regarding your failure to hand in some of your assignments?"

"Why would they tell you that?" Danny frowned.

"I'm a guidance counselor," he replied breezily. "It's my job to know about the students."

Danny didn't say anything, but glanced to the clock hanging on the wall. Connor took the time to notice the dark circles under Danny's eyes, the defeated posture as he sat on the chair, his refusal to look him straight in the eye.

"Your grades were fine back when you were younger," Connor said gently. "In fact, according to this, you were a writer for the school newspaper back in junior high."

Danny stiffened. "Exactly how much of my school records do you have?"

"Every documentation dating back to kindergarten. Why?"

"No reason." Danny shook his head.

"It says here that your grades started slipping when you entered high school, well that's to be expected, high school is tougher than junior high, and the grade curve can be different," Connor continued. "I notice they started getting better, I expect that's when you got the hang of things and started catching up. But shortly after that, they started slipping again. Crashing, I would say."

Danny closed his eyes, begging for patience.

Connor tilted his head, looking at the student with increasing worry. "Is there something that happened at that point, Danny?"

"What do you mean?" Danny's eyes flew open, meeting the counselor's.

"Sometimes, when a student loses his focus, it's usually the result of a bigger problem," Connor said.

Danny shook his head, barely noticeable at first, but growing more insistent. "There's nothing wrong," he stated.

"Okay," Connor nodded. "So, tell me, why did you stop working for the school paper?"

Danny shrugged.

"It was the eighth grade," he said, by means of explanation. "The next semester, it was high school." He shrugged. "I went for a meeting when the school paper here started up for the year, and I wasn't interested anymore."

Connor nodded.

"I suggest that you try out for it," he recommended to Danny. "You don't have to be a staff writer. You don't even have to go for the paper, not if you can find another activity that piques your interest. But I believe with your grades, and these detentions and absences from classes … doing something a little extra wouldn't hurt."

Danny gave a small nod.

"Try being a freelance writer," Connor told him. "Work your way up from there. If you find that you still have an interest in it, approach the editor about sending in more articles or stories, or whatever you want to send in. Eventually, maybe, you'll want to start being a part of them."

"Yes, sir," Danny said. He pushed his chair back and stood up to leave.

"Danny," Mr. Connor called back. Danny turned around, clutching his backpack tightly in one of his hands. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to hold on for a minute and answer this small survey."

"Oh, um, okay," Danny stumbled back to his seat. He wondered if Connor needed him to fill out one of those teacher evaluation forms they sometimes handed out. He wasn't too bad, Danny decided. Sure, he was a little too blunt at times, but he seemed like he had good intentions, and he somehow managed to sugarcoat everything even while being blunt, it seemed to Danny.

The survey, however, wasn't an evaluation.

"What the hell is _this_?" Danny exclaimed, staring at the questionnaire he was given. "I have trouble sleeping? I find it harder to pay attention as of recently? I feel I have nothing to look forward to? _I feel sad and depressed?_" he glared at the counselor, rage evident in his eyes. "I am _not_ depressed!"

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble with the survey," Mr. Connor smiled indulgently at him. "I'm afraid, however, I must insist that you complete the survey."

"You can't—" Danny sputtered "You can't _do that_!"

"Actually, I can," Connor replied. "As a counselor, I maintain the right to distribute this survey whenever I see fit, and as a student of this school, you are required to comply, just as you are required to sit for an test in class."

Danny clenched his teeth. "Fine." He slammed his hand down with the survey on to the wooden table surface before taking his seat and snatching the proffered pen from Mr. Connor's hand. He may have been forced to do this ridiculous, completely uncalled for survey, but that did not mean that he had to like it – and since Connor was so keen to know so much about him, Danny didn't see any reason why he should have to hide his anger over this injustice.

------------------------------------------

After Danny had stormed out of the room, Mr. Connor slid the completed questionnaire over to look at the results.

As expected, Danny had responded negatively to the major questions in the survey, as Connor had known he would have, given the boy's reaction to being subjected to a questionnaire about depression. Smiling grimly, he picked up the phone and, using the intercom feature, waited for Mr. Lancer to pick up.

"Yes, Abraham, what is it?" Mr. Lancer's tired voice came through.

"I just concluded my meeting with Mister Fenton, Lancer," Connor told him.

Lancer let out an uninterested grunt.

"I had him answer a questionnaire using a depression inventory," Connor informed.

"Why would you do that?"

"Well, when he was in here, I found Fenton to be tired, nervous, and most of all, uninterested in his future, I—"

"Yes, so?" Lancer asked, not sounding very impressed by Connor's deduction. "That doesn't sound like any particular cause for alarm. In fact, Fenton just sounds as if he's suffering from a severe case of being a lazy teenager who can't seem to grasp any sort of concept about the real world and what it will entail."

"I think you'll want to look at the results," Connor said.

"Fine. I'll be right over."

Moments later, the door swung open, and in walked Mister Lancer, fully equipped with an annoyed frown on his face. Wordlessly, Mr. Connor handed him Danny's results for Lancer to look over.

"He says he isn't suffering from depression," Lancer said.

"Well of course he's going to say that," Connor rolled his eyes. "You don't expect him to admit it do you?"

"Abraham, for Pete's sake," Lancer started, sitting down on the chair Danny had just been in a few minutes ago, "you cannot go around accusing students of suffering from depression; with Mister Fenton insisting that he does not, it basically closes the matter."

"Where would therapy be if psychologists only went by what their clients said in their initial questionnaires?" Connor demanded.

Lancer rolled his eyes. "You're a guidance counselor."

"Lancer, this school has set up a support group for such a case," Mr. Connor argued. "Fenton may not be suffering from depression as he claims – or he might be suffering from it and there is absolutely no reason for him to admit it to anyone just yet. What would you rather have us do, ignore it or put to use the system the school set up to avoid any fatal consequences?

"Read between the lines. Fenton answered no to many of the major questions in the survey – but he did respond to the minor ones. _I find it difficult to relax_. _I sometimes find it hard to just get going_. And it goes on."

"Very well," Lancer injected. "You'd better know what you're doing though – I don't want to find Fenton deciding to sue us over this."

"He won't," Connor promised.

"So what do you plan to do? Not therapy, I hope, you'll probably get us both kicked out."

"I wasn't planning on it," Connor said in a disgruntled tone. "It would make far more sense to have the support group handle it. Fenton would probably relate better to a peer than he would me."

"Fine," Lancer agreed.

The support group had been established years ago in attempt to help students as a hands-on approach from the school in order to help students who needed someone to talk to and get help from. It was the best choice, of course, as students did not appreciate being treated by the faculty. The procedure was simple: inform the student in question of your concerns, and your intent to get him or her help by having a student from the support program act as a person they could trust and confide in, similar to a sponsor in help program.

Reaching over and picking up the phone, Lancer paged the number for the room in which the support group met for meetings after school. After a moment, he heard a girl say, "Hello?"

"Hello, this is Mister Lancer," he greeted. "I would like you to send one of the students in the program over to Mister Connor's office now please. We may have a new case."

"Sure," the girl on the line agreed. "I'll send one over in a sec."

"Thank you," Lancer said and put down the phone. Seconds later, there was a knock on the door, and the two men turned as Dash Baxter sauntered in.

"Alyssa said you wanted me, sir," he said.

"Yes, Mister Baxter," Lancer smiled. "Sit down, please."

------------------------------------------

A/N: I subscribed a few days ago to Danny Phantom Slash Stories, and if anyone could tell me how I may be able to publish this in the community, I would be grateful.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing the previous chapter. Please feel free to review this as well. Anonymous reviews are allowed

The questionnaire used in this story is loosely based on the Depression Anxiety Stress Scale 42, Lovibond & Lovibond (1995). All credit goes to it.


	3. Your Guard

A/N: Thank you for all of your comments. Sorry this chapter was put up so late; my computer's been on the fritz, and getting on has been really hard lately, not to mention schoolwork and a touch of writer's block. I had hoped this chapter would be longer, but I like the way it turned out regardless, so I decided I might as well focus this chapter on Danny and Dash. Please review – it is the blood that keeps me alive. :)

Every fiber in Dash's body screamed 'No!'

When Mr. Lancer and Mr. Connor had called the support group's number a few minutes ago to discuss a new case they wanted the group to handle, the president, Alyssa, had decided that Dash would be the one to take it on.

Sure, Dash may have been a member of the group, but he had had no intention of actually doing any work. Unfortunately, unlike some of the extracurricular groups in the school he had sadly decided to avoid, one could not be a sleeping member in the Casper High Peer-To-Peer Support Group; Mr. Lancer himself had come in during the first meeting of the semester he had joined to announce that the group had been formed years ago with very serious intentions of helping students in effort to help students who were experiencing difficulties in their lives.

Personally, Dash thought they were a bunch of whiny crybabies. He was a teenager, but unlike what seemed to be every other person in his generation, he didn't spend his time moping around wondering why daddy didn't hug him more.

But, as he had found out last year, football didn't carry one as far as it used to. With the threat of being kicked out of the football team due to his grades slipping, Dash had worked hard to bring it back up to par, but had also decided to look into joining another extracurricular activity in an attempt to fatten his application. With his grades, and if football were to suddenly no longer an option to bank on getting into college, Dash needed to do something to keep from sinking.

Thankfully, his hard work and tutoring sessions had paid off and he had been able to stay on the team, but Dash had decided not to rest on his laurels and had continued to work with the support group – just in case he ever found himself in another crisis in which football might not be an option for his future anymore.

Unfortunately, this meant he had to work – Alyssa had wasted no time in dividing members into shifts for each day of the school week. Dash supposed that this was an adequate option; it meant that he could still devote himself to football, and he didn't have to go for a meeting with the group every day, but rather once or twice a week when he was to be on duty.

Though he had been assigned a few students throughout the year, all of whom had only had minor problems to work through and didn't require his support for more than a few weeks, Dash still loathed the group and everything it stood for. Let them work through their own problems. If they were stupid enough to kill themselves because their girlfriends dumped their asses or whatever, it shouldn't be anyone's problem except their own. And their families, he supposed.

That was why it was with a feeling of dread that he watched Alyssa put down the phone and assign a new case to Dash. He sort of wondered if she picked him simply because he was a popular, well-liked jock and she was just a fat loser. It wasn't as if he wasn't pulling his weight; he had just finished a case a couple of weeks ago!

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

Why couldn't she have picked someone else?

Composing himself and getting rid of the frown on his face, he knocked on the door of Mr. Connor's office and walked in. "Alyssa said you wanted to see me sir."

------------------------------------------

Every fiber in Dash's body screamed 'No!'

He stood stock still while Lancer and Connor explained the situation to him. That freak Fenton had taken some depression survey and Connor thought that he may be in denial about his "condition."

Why couldn't these people just leave it alone? Denial. Please. It was probably just some way those psychologists came up with to convince healthy people they needed their help and to give their money to them while they invented more bull about what was wrong with them.

Sure, Dash knew it applied in some cases, but what about those people who weren't depressed or suffering some other condition? They'd deny it. Oh, but they couldn't do that – that would be wrong.

Dash fought the nearly overwhelming urge to roll his eyes while the guidance counselor spoke. He spared a glance to Lancer, whose arms were folded across his chest and whose eyes had the bored look of a man not really believing what he was hearing.

Dash never thought they could relate before.

"The concept is simple, Mister Baxter," Lancer interrupted Connor's speech. "We will call Danny into my office tomorrow and explain our concerns for his results. We will tell him that we do not wish to intrude by suggesting that he go for therapy, not unless he or his parents deem it necessary, but under school policy, we reserve the right to insist that he rely on a member of the support group the school has set up. That would be you."

Dash nodded.

"You are then to take Danny under your care and offer your support and presence whenever he requires you. You are also to get him to put his trust in you, and I find the best way to do that is to experience some sort of bonding session together. We would require you to check up on how he is from time to time, having meetings, if possible once a week or so, call him from time to time, and tell him that he may also call you or if he prefers, to set up a meeting with you whenever he wishes. Have him confide in you and let it be known that he does not have to worry about being judged or ridiculed."

_Good luck with _that

"Yes, sir," Dash nodded. Great, now he would be stuck with Fen-toad. He didn't know why Lancer was telling him all of this; he knew how to do his job. It wasn't as though Fenton would be his first case.

"I expect everything to get started by Monday, Mister Baxter," Lancer told him. "You will have the rest of the week to tie your loose ends."

"Yes, Mister Lancer." Dash said.

------------------------------------------

Having finally reached home, Danny tossed his book bag down on to the carpeted floor and collapsed on the couch in relief, his body relaxing as soon as his head touched the soft material of the cushions.

His eyes snapped open as he heard the phone on the desk next to the couch ring.

_Please, no_.

"Urrgh!" With a Herculean effort, Danny managed to raise the upper half of his body so that he was in a sitting position, and reached out for the phone. He couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice, however, as he picked it up and said, "Hello?"

"Danny!" Sam's cheerful voice filtered through. Great, the two people he did not want to see the most. Danny still had not forgiven Sam and Tucker for ditching him this afternoon during his run-in with Dash and the other two jocks.

"Hey," Danny said, his voice monotonous.

Grabbing the phone and setting it on the floor, he allowed himself the comfort of sinking back into the couch. There was no reason he had to be physically uncomfortable for this.

"Where were you, man?" he heard Tucker say as he settled himself down. "We called a while back, but no one picked up."

"I had a meeting. With Mr. Connor," Danny informed them, eyes flicking over to the television and mentally deciding against turning it on as he would have had to sit up again to reach it.

"Well, Tuck and I are almost done with our assignments," Sam said, "We wanted to know if you wanted to hang out at the Nasty Burger a little later?"

"Um…." The truth was Danny hadn't even started on the assignments handed to them earlier in the week yet. Between having been on ghost patrol half the time and trying to keep up with the other aspects of his life, and feeling far too exhausted and all too ready to procrastinate, the workload had been piling up, which was no great surprise. "I can't," he said. "Too much work to do. In fact, I think I should get to it right now."

"Oh, okay," they said, surprise evident in their voices at Danny's abrupt dismissal.

"Bye," Danny said, and hung up the phone. Finally rid of interruptions, he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, ready to have his body imprinted on the cushions.

Hours passed, but it could have been seconds for all the good it did Danny; when he awoke to the phone ringing again, his heart thudded in his chest as though scared back to life, and as he shifted his body to face the phone left on the floor, he was struck with a feeling of pure exhaustion.

Exhaling slightly because a small breath of air felt like all he had the energy to give at the moment, he allowed his hand to drop from his side to the floor and pick up the receiver. Bringing it back up to his ear, he said in a voice so laden with fatigue it even surprised him, "Hello?"

"Idiot," he heard the person on the other end of the line hiss.

Danny frowned. What the hell?

"Excuse me?" he asked, a surge of energy allowing him to prop himself up to a semi-sitting position.

"Idiot," the person repeated, this time in a stronger voice.

"Um, who is this?" Danny asked, puzzled.

There was a pause. Then a familiar, high-pitched nasal voice asked, "This is Danny Fenton, right?"

"Dash?" Danny frowned heavily. "How did you get this number?"

"Duh, Fenton," Danny could just see the blonde rolling his eyes on the other end. "I got it off your sister when she tutored me a couple years ago. I _assumed_ you guys hadn't changed it."

"Uh-huh, great. Why are you calling me?"

"Because, Fenton, because of your stupid answers on Connor's test, I got stuck as your lifeline until I-don't-know-when."

"What?" Danny was still extremely confused.

Dash rolled his eyes. The boy must be thick in the skull.

"I _said_, because of your stupid answers on that depression test with Connor today, Lancer has me babysitting you until they decide you're not going to kill yourself since I'm part of that stupid support group."

Hearing this, Danny blinked twice and pulled the telephone receiver away from his ear to stare at it.

Dash winced as he heard loud, raucous laughter on the other end of the line.

"Wait, _you're_ on the Peer-To-Peer _Support Group_?" Danny finally gasped, laughter still apparent in his words.

"Shut up," Dash muttered.

There was a pause as Dash shuffled his foot uncomfortably and Danny, he assumed, recovered from his bout of laughter.

"And if you tell anyone, I'll kill you," he threatened. It was standard procedure for the people he took care of under the program. He couldn't think of anything worse than the whole school finding out that he was on the support group helping those in need of aid.

"You have my silence," Danny said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Why couldn't you have just put 'no' for everything?" Dash grumbled.

"I – I wasn't thinking," Danny admitted to him.

Well, that was unexpected. Dash hadn't thought Fen-turd would tell him something like that in a sincere voice.

"I just wanted to get out of there and go to sleep, and, I don't know, I guess I didn't think it would go over well if I just said no to everything. I said no to all the obvious ones, that should have been enough."

"Well, it wasn't," Dash said, but in a less irritable tone. "I _guess_ if they wanted to nab you as a lunatic there wouldn't have been much you could have done about it."

"Yeah," Danny sounded relieved. Dash scowled.

"Well, Lancer wanted me to tell you that we have to meet him in his office on Monday after class, so if you're late, he'll kill me – and I'll kill you myself."

"I doubt Lancer would want anything to happen to his star quarterback," Danny said bitterly over the phone. Dash couldn't blame him; he knew Lancer played favorites with the jocks. Not that he was complaining or anything.

"Whatever, Fen-turd. Just be there," Dash told him. "If we have to do this, I guess we should do it right."

"And here I thought jocks didn't have dedication towards anything except grunting and slapping each other on the butt with every touchdown," Danny smirked.

"Shut up," Dash groused, and hung up the phone.


	4. When Unsettled

A/N: I'm sorry for being so late on this chapter, I just had far too much to do in the time between posting the last chapter and posting this one. I didn't completely slack off though, and because I feel guilty for waiting so long, as well as to prove to you I did _something_ constructive (as far as Danny Phantom) goes, and most importantly, because I am a review whore, allow me to take this time to advertise for my two DP music videos found in my account under lo0sedefense in YouTube for you to check out (and review :p). Okay one of them I made before I created this story, but I like that video a lot too hahah.

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

In the time between Dash's phone call and waking up the next morning, Danny had had the opportunity to progress from vague confusion, to indignant anger over the unfairness of it all, to just plain anger at himself, to apprehension over what Dash may do to him now that he had a license to be around him practically every moment, to cold, heart-stopping fear over what it would mean for his double life with Dash constantly around, to a combination of all of the above.

So it was with a quivering heart and legs of lead that Danny woke up and almost mechanically prepared himself for school that Monday morning. Deciding to skip breakfast for the sake of his stomach and fellow students or whoever may happen to be by when he would throw it up, he slowly walked to and entered his car, sucking in a deep puff of air before turning the ignition and driving to Casper High.

The day was mercifully uneventful, as Danny did not think he could take any unexpected surprises, his head too full of thoughts of the meeting in Lancer's office, surrendering his body and welfare to Dash to bruise as he pleased, and random images of how the jock would discover his secret and expose it to the world.

At various times through the day, Danny had caught glimpses of Dash as they headed about their way in the school, most of the times spotting the flashes of annoyance in his eyes to match the dread in Danny's own. Once when he and Kwan had been passing their table, Dash had turned to give Danny a pointed look, never breaking his stride. Tucker had stopped munching on his sandwich, and Sam had held her fork tight over her salad bowl, both of them staring at Danny curiously. "What was that about?"

Danny had opened his mouth to tell them, but had then frozen, a part of him not wanting them to know what he was about to go through.

"Probably a promise to break my bones afterwards or something," he had told them glumly instead. It wasn't far from the truth, as far as he was concerned. After all, there was no way Dash was so dedicated to the Support Group that he would have made sure to let Danny know not to ditch the meeting after school multiple times.

Finally the bell rung signaling three o'clock, releasing the students from their classes. All except—

"Fenton, Mister Lancer has told me that you are to head directly to his office after class," Mr. Boswell, one of Danny's most intolerable teachers said in his signature dry voice, barely looking up from the papers he was marking.

Danny let out a frustrated sigh. Why was everybody so intent on letting him know that he was due at this meeting. It wasn't as if the world would end if he were to be a second late. "Yes, sir, I was just on my way now," Danny informed him, plastering a smile on his face. Not receiving a reply, he ducked out of the class and resignedly began making his way to Lancer's office.

Raising his hand to knock on the wooden door, Danny hesitated, realizing that before him was the potential to ruin his life forever. Taking a moment to allow his life to flash before his eyes, he slowly and unsteadily lowered his hand to hit the door.

"Come in."

They must all have been waiting for him for Lancer to have responded so readily to _that_.

"Ah, Mister Fenton," Lancer smiled complacently as the boy entered.

"I didn't do anything," Danny said sullenly as a last-ditch attempt to get himself off the hook.

Lancer raised his eyebrow as he turned his head slightly to Dash, as if to say '_What did you tell him?_' Dash, however, sitting on the chair in front of Lancer's desk, body half turned to face Danny, missed it as he rolled his eyes in exasperation. Mr. Connor, leaning against the grey locker next to Lancer's desk, gave him a cold smile.

Lancer let out little sound that may have meant to be a chuckle. "You may rest easy, Mister Fenton, no one here thinks you did anything wrong. We are, however, concerned."

Danny desperately tried to will his brain to go numb.

"Mister Connor here has some concerns over the results of the survey he had administered to you last Friday."

Curses, foiled again.

"Mister Lancer, I can assure you I—" Danny started, forgoing all plans to remain silent throughout the meeting.

"Danny, please, do not interrupt me," Lancer held up his hand as if to bring the student to a screeching halt. "What I was trying to say is, with the results of your test, Mister Connor and I feel that it would be in your best interest if we were to …" here he paused momentarily, trying to think of the best way to put it, "introduce you to some of the fine members of the student body – er, members who you may perhaps be able to _vent_ to, should you feel the need?" Mr. Lancer sat back in his chair, the tips of his fingers meeting each other with a smile on his face.

Yes, that had been an excellent way to put it.

Danny raised an eyebrow. The man hadn't even tried.

"A member of the student body?" he mocked. "Don't you mean a member of the Casper High Support Group?"

"Mister Baxter here does happen to be a member of that particular group, yes," Mr. Lancer said. "I think you'll agree, Danny, there aren't many we would trust with the, shall we say, _issues_ of our young students; otherwise, your friends Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley would have been our first choice, of course. But know that Dash is an excellent substitute, as he's had—"

"Training?" Danny offered.

Dash shot Danny a dark look out of the corner of his eye.

"I was going to say experience with helping those in need," Mr. Lancer said after a beat of silence; "but yes, Dash _has_ undergone the training program required of those in the support group, and has risen to the occasion magnificently – it's what makes him such an excellent candidate."

Dash closed his eyes and prayed for strength. What kind of person told a potentially depressed charge that he was going to be taken care of by a _candidate_?

Danny, however, either did not notice this, or did not care, for he slumped back into his chair, looking too tired to say anything else. It was only then, with the raven-haired boy's shoulder slumped and eyes hollow, that Dash realized how tight and pinched with worry his face had been before.

Lancer seemed oblivious as he leaned back in his own seat, evidently pleased that he had been able to get through the boy without much fuss, the tips of his fingers meeting while he gazed upon the two of them, slouched miserably, but yet, he was sure, determined to work through their problems like responsible adults.

"Well," he said, slapping his palms down on to the surface of his desk, "I had taken the liberty of informing Mister Baxter on what shall be expected of your new 'friendship', and I trust that he will run through his plans for the both of you in the coming weeks to months outside my office."

"_Weeks to months?_" Danny exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "But sir!"

"Now, now, Mister Fenton," Lancer said in his smoothest voice. "Nothing could be more important than this, the welfare of my students. The program will take however long it needs to."

Danny glowered; Dash folded his arms, a sulky pout threatening to show itself; Connor was restlessly shifting his weight on either foot as he stood by the locker in the same spot he had been for the past twenty minutes; and he, Lancer, was growing tired of this whole ordeal.

"I think we've covered just about everything," he said, getting to his feet and extending his arm to show them to the door. "Now, I'm sure you have many things to discuss – _out_." With that last word, he had placed a firm hand on Dash Baxter's back and none-too-gently shoved them out, Dash stumbling up against Danny from the unexpected force and toppling out together.

Danny pulled away from the jock behind him, irritated. "Great," he snapped, not being able to catch himself in time before his frustration boiled over. If Dash had a license to beat him up now, he might as well voice out his discontent before it was against the rules.

"Chill, Fenton," Dash rolled his eyes. "The last thing you need to be right now is a drama mama."

Danny's fists started to shake as he gritted his teeth and forced his eyes closed. This time it worked, thankfully, as he had noticed the faint green glow around his hands that indicated that the Phantom within him was being channeled and merging with him in his rage again.

"All right, Dash, how about this," he snapped. "We both think this is a stupid arrangement, so how about we stay as far away from each other as possible and after a couple of weeks we go to Lancer and say I'm completely cured."

Dash frowned in annoyance. "Doesn't work that way, Fen-_turd_; if it did, don't you think I would have suggested it myself?

"I don't like it either, but Lancer and Connor want updates throughout this damn thing, and if we don't make it good, then we'll both be in trouble, and I'm not going to let that happen if I can help it," Dash jabbed a finger hard into Danny's chest. "And it's not like you have the greatest track record either – if Lancer doesn't see the results he's expecting, god knows what other forms of torture he'll come up with."

A muscle in Danny's jaw twitched as he bit back a petulant demand to be left alone.

There was a tense silence as the two boys stood there, barely a foot between them, arms crossed over their chests while they glared each other down.

Dash was the first to break the silence. "Look, Fenton," he said venomously, "if we have to do this, don't be a child about it. Let's just get through this as civil as possible, and if we're lucky we'll be done before the month is over, alright?"

There was another moment of silence as Danny considered this. "And you won't hit me?" he asked suspiciously.

"And have you tell Lancer and get me kicked off the group? Right," Dash rolled his eyes.

"Why do you even care?" Danny asked. Ever since he had been told about Dash's position, he had not been able to understand why the position meant so much to Dash if he spent the rest of his time nullifying his work by acting as the resident school bully, nor if he acted that helping the students was such pure torture.

"It's what I do," Dash retorted. "It's my safety plan, so if I have to do it, I might as put in some effort so that I don't get kicked out and end up screwed. Maybe if you had a little bit of that attitude instead of whining to yourself about how you're so alone in this world or whatever, we wouldn't be here right now."

_Oh yeah_, Danny stewed angrily. _I don't put in enough effort – let's see how well you do when you have to spend every night saving the collective butts in this town_. He bit down on his tongue to keep anything from slipping out.

"We'll start tomorrow," Dash announced before stalking off towards the front doors.

Danny released the air he had been holding in his lungs, feeling his body droop in the exhale. Shuffling to his locker to get whatever books he needed to complete his homework for the night, he had just reached in when he froze, his mouth involuntarily falling open as a cold waft of air escaped. _Oh, no_.

He slammed his locker door shut and bounded over to he first empty classroom he saw, slamming the door behind him. Squeezing his eyes shut, his body shook as two great white rings materialized around his waist, one rising up and the other drifting down his body. As they moved in their opposite directions, the plain white shirt and baggy jeans started to disappear, the beginnings of a black jumpsuit taking the place it had once been. The blue eyes flashed before being overtaken by green, and the jet-black hair sitting atop his head faded into snow-white. Complete with a D emblazoned on his chest, Danny Phantom stood, a cocky smirk on his face before leaping into the air and zooming to the ceiling, turning invisible and intangible as he did so.

Popping out above the school's rooftop, he materialized into solid form again, scanning the school grounds desperately for any sign of threat. There was none that he could see; the grounds were filled with students, teachers and select others walking and chattering calmly, and there were no charred holes formed in the grounds, which at least told Danny that whatever had activated his senses was not either huge in size or huge in power.

Still, that did not mean it didn't pose a threat, whatever it was; Danny had learned a long time ago that the most complicated messes could come from those that seemed to lack the characteristics to pull it off – even the Box Ghost had managed to rough him up before, although granted it had been in a future destined to never come true.

There were no telltale signs that he could see of a ghost; his ghost sense didn't activate again, and he saw no sign of an ectoplasmic being, nor traces that one may have been around.

All of a sudden, while his eyes sifted through the crowd, he heard a yell from down below, and turned to the direction of the sound. He saw a boy with a mass of dirty blonde hair with his finger pointed to something, and people looking to see what he was pointing at. Danny quickly tried to find the menace, but stopped when he saw that people were actually running in the direction of whatever the boy was pointing at.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Danny to realize that the boy was pointing at _him_.

He straightened his pose and gave an unsure grin and wave of his hand as he heard the cheers from the public as they jumped for his attention before floating back down into the school through the roof and back into the class he had been in previously.

As easily as anything, the two rings appeared around his waist again and within a moment the ghost was gone and Danny Fenton was back.

Still feeling uneasy about the undetected ghost but feeling rather pleased with the positive reaction he had gained from the crowd when they had noticed him, Danny turned the knob, but stopped when he heard the loud commotion outside. He didn't have to rush out to know that it wasn't about a ghost threat though, as the voices and rush of footsteps around the area were loud enough to tell him that his "fans" were outside searching for him in hopes of getting another glimpse.

_Crap, they must have seen me go into the school!_ Danny realized.

Not a problem. With a confident smile he felt all solid matter in his body disappear as he turned intangible and invisible once again, this time in his human form. Sauntering out, undetected, he waited only until he was out of range from the crowd before becoming visible again.

Whistling as a little tune as he walked to his car, Danny failed to notice the boy in the letterman jacket still gazing at the classroom he had been in just a few minutes ago with his signature smirk.

"This is almost too easy."


	5. I Drive You Away

A/N: Sorry for the abysmally late chapter. I had some trouble with my computer since the last time I updated.

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

"Why are you following me?" Danny Fenton snapped in irritation.

Dash Baxter folded his arms around his chest. "Because it's my _job_ now, Fenton, and I've already told you that if I have to do it then I'll do it well."

"Everybody's gone home!" Danny shouted, fists clenching stiffly by his side. "Don't you think you're supposed to look after me during school?"

"Let's not get carried away," Dash rolled his eyes. "I may want to do my job well, but not so much that I would risk being seen around you all day long."

"Oh of course," the bitterness was far too evident in his voice for Danny's liking. "I forgot, the only thing that matters to you people is your reputation."

"Shut it, Fenton," Dash said. "What do you know about it?"

"Like I don't know anything about not wanting to be seen around somebody I don't like," Danny smirked.

"Besides," Dash chose to ignore the dig, "it's not as if you're going to kill yourself right under Lancer's nose in school, so why should I bother keeping an eye on you then?" His smug look seemed to wipe itself off his face. "Don't get any ideas though."

"I am _not_ going to kill myself!" Danny yelled.

"You know, anger is often one of the symptoms of severe depression," Dash grinned confidently.

Danny seethed. With all the things that had happened in the past few days, psychobabble was quickly becoming one of the things he hated most in this world.

He turned around and marched up the sidewalk to go home, cursing himself for not having taken his car, not having enough time thanks to an unexpected battle with some random ghost in the morning before school. Even with the meeting they had shared in the Lancer's office with both he and Mr. Connor yesterday afternoon, Danny hadn't anticipated Dash to start shadowing him around, which had put a dent in his plan to turn ghost and fly home. Not until he had turned a corner and could safely transform anyway.

But as he walked, Danny spied out of the corner of his eye Dash following him behind. Frowning, he quickened his pace, only to see Dash doing the same.

He ran.

---------------------------------------------

By the time FentonWorks was in sight, Danny was sprinting as fast as he could, Dash keeping up close behind him, a determined look on his face.

"You can't come in!" Danny shouted, struggling to run faster.

"Oh, yes I can!" Dash clenched his teeth as he sped up.

Danny got there first, slamming the door open with all his might and desperately turning around quickly to shut it. But before it could close completely, Dash slapped his hand firmly against the wood to stop the movement. Danny grunted, the door gaving way a little as Dash shoved the weight of his body against it. He did the same, praying to every god whose name he could remember at the moment that he would be strong enough to close and lock it.

"Damn it, Fenton, let me in!" Dash demanded shoving against the door even more. "If you don't, I'll tell your parents about everything and how you're not letting me … do … my … _job_!" With that final word, the athlete had managed to overpower the other boy and force his way in. The two of them tumbled and rolled into the house, breathing hard from the exertion.

There was a pause as Danny lay flat on the floor and Dash on top of his legs, both trying to regain some strength.

"Ouch," Danny said.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position, Dash took a moment and then flashed an evil look at the brunette.

"I told you already, Fenton, that's not how this works. You're not getting rid of me that easily, much to my disgust."

"Now get me some juice."

------------------------------------------

"It must be torture," Sam said sympathetically.

"It _is_ torture!" Danny raised his hands in aggravation. "He shoved through the door, he demanded juice, he told me to not sound so whiny _when I wasn't even being whiny_—"

"Maybe it would be best to lower your voice," Sam interrupted. "Tucker, will you _stop_ playing with that stupid PDA when we're talking?"

"I'm not playing with it," Tucker defended himself, pulling the earpiece away long enough to answer. Sam snatched the device from his hand to look at what he was listening to.

"Ember McLean – _Remember_?" she sneered, revolted.

"This song," Tucker grabbed the PDA back, "is a classic."

"This song is evil!" Sam exclaimed. She took the PDA from him again and pulled out her MP3 player and selected a song that she thought was far more appropriate, pulling out the earphones connected to the PDA and stuck it into her own device. Tucker jumped as a loud blast of music blared into his ears, removing the offending piece and leaning forward to see the name of the band whose music had assaulted him.

"Veranda Of Souls?" he raised an eyebrow. "No thanks."

A muscle twitched next to Danny's eye. "Um, guys?"

"Oh, sorry," Samantha turned her attention back to him, packing her player back into her bag. "You were saying?"

"Yeah. I was saying," Danny said sarcastically.

"Sheesh, touchy," Tucker grinned cheekily, causing Danny to look all the more sour.

"It's not funny, you guys," he said. "How am I supposed to go ghost with him hanging around every day?"

"Did he really say he'd meet you every day?" Sam asked in surprise.

"Well …" Danny considered, "no. But he's really dedicated to the cause. He keeps saying that if he has to do this, he should do it well. I'm starting to think it's his way of motivating himself."

Tucker snorted with laughter.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Tucker managed to gasp. "It's just—" he buried his head against his hands, shoulders shaking with laughter again, "—Dash … Dash being around you … taking _care_ of you …"

He threw his head back and let out a wheezing kind of laughter. A muscle started to twitch in Danny's cheek as he fought a smirk back. It was a pretty ridiculous situation if it weren't such a nuisance for him, to be honest.

"_Support group!_" Tucker launched his head back onto the wooden table they were sitting at outside the school, still laughing.

---------------------------------------

"I'm going to tell this to you one last time," Danny sucked in a breath of air and squared his shoulders, his eyes smoldering as Dash watched on passively, his chin balanced on his fist. The two were once again in the Fenton residence, and though it had only been two days as of yet, Danny was once again sure that he had reached his limit with this situation.

"I made a mistake," Danny tried to ignore the little shake in his voice as he got the words out. He was going to calmly explain everything to Dash. Jazz had always told him that the only way to take control of life was to be clear and level-headed – something, she claimed, Danny had yet to learn.

No time like the present.

"I was tired after a long, hard day of school, and all I wanted to do was come home. But then I had to take that stupid test –" hmmm, the stupid part may not have been the best thing to add, considering, "– and I simply wrote down whatever answers I felt like. Yes, I know, it was stupid and I just walked right into it, but like I said, it was a mistake. And I was having a bad day. You can't blame me for sounding depressed or whatever Connor's accusing me of after a bad day, can you?" he placed his hands on his hips.

Yes, this was going well.

"So … I'm not going to kill myself – never even had the thought cross my mind," Danny concluded confidently. "So you're just wasting time here. Precious time. Precious, valuable time." He paused. "Time better spent with football or in the Nasty Burger or—" he winced, "— with Paulina."

Dash continued to stare at him, his eyes still skeptical. Danny waited for him to say something.

"Nice try, Fenton," Dash said, the signature smirk coming back to his face as he drew the hand he had been resting his chin on away from the table, allowing it to fall to his side. "But 'never contemplated suicide'? That's a stretch. _Everyone_ contemplates suicide at least once. Even me."

"You?" Danny folded his arms around his chest. "The ever sneerful-cheerful I-hate-everything-about-my-whiny-generation Dash Baxter?"

The blond shrugged unconcernedly. "I'm still a member of this generation. Just because I hold contempt for our flawed outlook doesn't mean I've never experienced it every now and then. Call it a flaw in upbringing."

Danny lost his temper.

"Look!" he snapped, "this is my house and I will _not_ allow you to treat me like some nutcase invalid. I _don't_ have suicidal tendencies, I _don't_ need to be kept on constant watch, and I – _don't_ –" he pushed his finger stiffly into Dash's muscular chest "– need to be followed around by need to be followed around by _you_!"

The coolness that had graced Dash's face all through the encounter thus far evaporated as he lost his composure. Without a second thought, he reacted to the jab, shooting out his arms and shoving Danny back with all his strength, causing the smaller boy to stumble back and press up against the wall behind him.

"I'm getting sick of this, Fenton," he barked, not caring for the involuntary wince Danny had given at the sudden jerk. "I've already told you that I have to do this, and I am _not_ going to explain myself again. You'd better stop playing the victim all the time and learn to accept that sometimes you have to just make the best of a shitty situation." He slammed his open palm against the wall to the immediate left of Danny's face, blocking the path with his arm, and leaned in. "And if you can't make the best of it, I don't give a damn – you're going to have to stick with it.

"I don't want to be here any more than you do, and you know that. I have better things to do with my time than baby-sit a guy who can't get over himself. But when Lancer and Connor come up to me to check up on our progress, I am not going to end up stammering some lame excuse about how everything's fine. Not if they can so easily see that it isn't."

Danny clenched his jaw, fire raging in his eyes to match those in Dash's. As of this moment there was no one that he hated more than the person in front of him.

Dash breathed in and out once, sharply, and pulled back to fall gracefully back into the chair he had been sitting in. His eyes were still fixed on Danny as he pulled one leg up to rest over the other, his arms crossed over his chest, daring Danny to defy him.

Danny peeled himself away from the wall and stalked over to the stairs and up to his room. Just before he turned the knob of his door, he checked to hear any sign of Dash moving downstairs, perhaps making his way up behind him, but there was nothing. As far as he could tell, the other boy was still rooted to his chair, and knowing him, in the same stubborn pose.

_He's like a child_, Danny fumed, pushing his door open and slamming it shut behind him with the loudest bang he could achieve.

-----------------------------------------

Danny wasn't sure how much time had passed since he had come into his room and flopped down on the bed. It was late, though, and the sun was starting to go down. Soon enough it would be night, and he would need to patrol the streets once again as Danny Phantom.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position on the side of the bed, he took a moment to brace himself, then stood up, and closed his eyes. He felt his feet sink into the ground, and lower through the boards as from bottom to top he started to disappear and lose tangibility in his form. Floating down through his room, he descended gently through the ceiling of the living room below his bedroom, and having reached the floor, he willed himself to stop. He turned around and was surprised to find Dash hunched over the coffee table in the same chair he had been sitting since Danny had last left him, books strewn on the table and on the floor beside, writing busily into a sheet of paper splayed out over his notebook.

Rematerializing again, Danny asked with a harsher bite in his tone than he intended, "You're still here?"

Dash looked up in surprise. "I didn't hear you come down."

"I have quiet feet," Danny lied. "Why are you still here? It's pretty late, isn't it?"

Dash snorted. "Yeah, like I'm really going to leave without you coming down from your room. Have you finished with your little tantrum?"

Danny opened his mouth to protest that he had most certainly not thrown a tantrum, but then froze as he heard the sound of glass breaking somewhere upstairs. Dash's head shot upwards to the direction of the sound.

"What was that?"

Danny stepped backwards, his hand reaching out and gripping the banister of the staircase.

"Wait here," he warned the jock.

Shooting upstairs, he missed the confused look on Dash's face turning into one of indignation at the order.

Rushing to his room, where he was sure the sound had come from, Danny pushed the door open and halted, shock widening his eyes when he saw the hulking figure before him, back turned towards him.

Though he could not see the face, there was no mistaking the heavy armor that adorned the body of the intruder; having heard the door swing open, Skulker turned around, facing Danny with a leer.

"Ah, ghost-child!" he boomed. "Lucky now that you are here; I admit that I had been slightly disappointed not to find you when I entered." In an instant, he raised his right arm, a small square part in the middle parting to allow a piece of weaponry to rise, aimed at Danny. "But I have you at gunpoint now, so all is well."

Danny's eyes darted from the weapon – no doubt built by the hunter himself, as it looked as out-of-this-world as any other piece of artillery Danny had seen from the ghost's arson in the past – to the open door which he was still attached to by the knob. He couldn't risk Dash hearing or seeing any of this, but one false move and the sadistic ghost would give him a wound with all sorts of unknowable consequences.

So he took the chance to transform into his ghost half; seeing this, Skulker fired, but Danny was ready. Willing every part of him except the wrist attached to the door to turn intangible, the shot flew harmlessly through him, but sadly, blew out a small chuck of the wall behind him. Slamming the door shut, Danny willed the remaining appendage intangible as the rest of him, and, leaping from the floor with the tips of his toes, soared towards Skulker, fists pushed out in front of him.

As he was just about to reach the ghost, he once again forced his fists tangible, thereby knocking the bigger ghost down thanks to the fact that he had expected the halfa to simply glide right through him.

Skulker was quick though. Faster than Danny had expected him to, the hunter jumped to his feet and, letting out an aggravated roar, turned around to face Danny again and swept his powerful hand through the area of the ghost boy's torso. Fortunately, Danny had not had the time to turn tangible, and the blow passed through him without impact. The objects on the desk behind him, however, were not so lucky; as Danny spotted the broken lamp that lay at his feet to the right, this being the object that had broken and alerted the boys to the ghost's presence in the bedroom, the rest of the knick-knacks were shoved off the desk to fall on his left.

Leaping up, Danny hovered in midair, temporarily out of Skulker's grasp, taking the opportunity to turn corporeal again, and landed safely down just out of reach, jumping forward to land a solid punch to Skulker's face. The hunter, however, had been ready for it this time, and it did little good. He returned the favor, a steady punch to Danny's stomach which sent him flying across the room, his arms wide open by sides so that they dragged along every piece of junk upon the furniture that didn't have a wide enough berth from his fall.

"Foolish ghost-boy! I did not come here to fight you," Skulker took a step closer to the prone boy.

"Uh-huh," Danny said sardonically, pushing himself up a bit to raise his head and clutch the side of it with one hand. "That's why you fired a gun at me."

"Oh, that was simply to drive you into submission," Skulker said dismissively.

"Fenton?" Danny heard Dash call out from below. "What's all that noise?"

Panicked, Danny turned back to face Skulker. He had to finish this. He wanted to ask what the ghost hunter wanted if it wasn't to carve his head and mount it upon his wall, but he couldn't risk Skulker being seen by Dash, and even worse, he couldn't risk being seen as Danny Phantom.

Through the heavy quiet of the room, Danny heard the telltale squeak of the second stair. Fear gripped his heart – Dash was coming upstairs.

Picking himself up, he thought quickly. "Hey Skulker," he whispered.

Skulker tilted his head; apparently, he wasn't as concerned of being discovered by the human he knew was coming, nor did he seem to understand why Danny should care. "What?" he demanded.

Bracing his shoulder, Danny rushed towards the hunter as fast he could, the only thought in his mind being that he had to time this right, or he was sunk. He was too quick for the ghostly hunter to prepare himself, and so when the moment Danny felt his shoulder hit Skulker squarely in the chest, knocking the ghost off-balance, he went intangible once more, before the other being fell too far away from him, and the connection between their bodies caused the both of them to lose their substance at the same time, against Skulker's will.

Lighter now, Danny maintained their connection, taking off from the ground once again to gain more leverage, and as if in slow-motion, transferred his strength from his shoulder to his extending arm as he started to shove Skulker away, and finally, pushed him all the way through out of the wall of his bedroom into the open air.

It was only when the ghost was completely moved through the wall and out of the house that Danny broke the connection between them, and allowed himself to rematerialize again, and Skulker forced back into solid form, not having expected the attack at all and was thus unable to prepare himself to maintain his intangible form without Danny. Danny heard the cry of surprise as Skulker plunged down to the ground, outside of the house now, and smiled a little at the loud crash that told him that the ghost had landed in a heap on the concrete below.

He'd hardly had time to change back into his regular form though when he heard the doorknob rapidly turn and Dash pushed through, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him: Danny, breathing heavily with sweaty brow, the desk behind him, a small broken table lamp on the floor to his right, and broken glass and precious things all around the left side of the room.

Danny gazed wildly at Dash and the stunned look he wore, trying to think up an excuse to explain the state of his room.

"Er, would you believe this lamp caused a domino effect in all the other objects … as it fell in the opposite direction?"


	6. Then Riddle Me This

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

_Then what did he do?_

Danny's eyes ran through the words before leaning low over his desk and scrawling his answer, passing the note back to Tucker next to him when he was done.

_Nothing. He stared as me as though I were psychotic and bolted_.

Tucker's lips curled downwards a little and he flicked the note to the table next to him where an eager Sam took it. It was third period math class with Miss Curtin, the first class that all three of them shared together for the day, and they were currently engrossed in another one of their frequent three-way note passing. Fortunately, this was the safest period to indulge in such an activity: the teacher, seemingly having long given up on her students, usually spent the hour writing down formulas on the blackboard and explaining them often without turning to face the class.

The note was passed back to Tucker. He read what Sam had written – _What are you going to do now?_ – and handed it to Danny under the table.

Danny frowned slightly as he wrote his answer and passed it back.

_What can I do? Tell him I was fighting a ghost? By the way, get this, dude pulls a gun on me and then tells me he wasn't there to fight me. Course, by then I had kicked his ass_.

Tucker smirked when he saw the response, and wrote in his own before giving it to Sam:

_Look on the bright side. Maybe Dash will leave you alone now_.

Sam wasn't as amused if the look on her face was anything to go by though.

_After thinking Danny trashed his room in a bad temper? Not likely. It's not like Skulker to hide his intentions, even though he gets his ass handed to him every time. Maybe he was there for another reason._

Danny paused, contemplating this when he got back the piece of paper. It was true; in his all previous encounters with the hunter, Skulker had never missed a chance to boast about how he was going have Danny in a cage one day. With all the excitement of the previous night, trying to shout out an excuse to Dash as he had rapidly left the house, cleaning up his room, wondering how to explain the little hole in his wall to his parents, and patrolling through the night, Danny had never really stopped to consider this little inconsistency in Skulker's behavior.

_I guess you're right_, he admitted.

_Did you check your room after the fight?_ Tucker wrote back.

_No. I didn't have time. I had to clean up and go on patrol_.

_You really have to look_, Sam wrote down when Tucker passed the note to her. _What if Skulker got what he wanted?_

_I don't think he did. He was looking through my desk when I found him. He only turned around when he heard me open the door_.

_What would Danny have that Skulker would be interested in anyway?_ Tucker wrote in.

_Danny's the halfa. Maybe Skulker thought there would be something useful in his room._

_You just have an answer for everything, don't you?_

Danny glanced up and frowned heavily at his two friends when he read their dialogue in the note. He was getting a bit tired of their constant bickering; it had been present all through their relationship, but had escalated as the three of them grew older.

Deciding to ignore them again, Danny mulled over the conversation they had had in the note. Assuming Skulker hadn't been waiting merely to attack him again – Danny still wasn't sure that it was completely out of the question – then the ghost had been searching for something. The puzzling thing was that Skulker had known for years where Danny lived, several encounters with each other having taken place in the Fenton household, including that time when he was fourteen and Dash, Skulker and himself had been accidentally shrunken down. What could Danny have now that would interest Skulker enough to tread into FentonWorks?

It hit him like a ton of bricks, and he quickly scribbled it down.

_I know what he wants_.

---------------------------------------------------

"Why would Skulker care about Vlad's ghost?" Tucker questioned as they clambered into Danny's car. It was the lunch period, and the three students were exercising the seniors right to leave school grounds during the time to check Danny's room.

"Maybe Vlad asked him to get it for him," Sam suggested as Danny turned the ignition and drove down the street.

"Well that'd be pointless," Tucker argued. "He was the one who gave Danny his ghost half anyway. Why would he want it back all of a sudden? And why would he ask Skulker to give it to him when he could just ask Danny himself?"

"Who knows why Vlad does anything," Danny replied crossly, knuckles turning white due to how hard he was gripping the steering wheel.

"Maybe he figured you wouldn't give it back," Sam offered. "You do have your arch-nemesis's power in your hands after all."

"Yeah, maybe," Danny muttered. "I don't know. Let's just go and make sure that its still there before we focus on anything else."

They arrived at the Fenton home in record time and pushed their way in through the door and up the stairs, but Danny stopped suddenly at the top of the landing, causing Sam and Tucker behind him to bump into his back.

Maddie Fenton turned around to see the three teenagers, her son staring at her and Jack with shock and fear. "Danny," she exclaimed, "why are you home so early?"

Danny's mouth opened and closed silently, his mind racing to think of an answer, but was stumbling due seeing his parents there. He had assumed that they would have been downstairs in the laboratory, but his eyes went to the hole in his wall that his father had previously been inspecting, and he knew why they were there.

"He forgot a book," Sam jumped in. "And ours too. We – we came over to study a few days ago and we left them."

"I didn't know you guys came over," Maddie frowned. She didn't think that they were lying of course, the family had known Sam and Tucker since Danny had introduced them in the second grade, but she had a sneaking suspicion that that couldn't have been why they were all three of them cluttering up her stairway.

Jack didn't seem to notice them however, saying "Well, go get them then," in a cheerful tone. Danny made to move to his door, but Maddie then called him back.

"Danny," she said, "your father and I noticed this … hole here."

"Oh, yeah!" Jack turned back to the hole in the wall. "Anything you can explain, son?"

"It—" Danny broke off to suck in a breath as he found his lungs suddenly empty. "—it was a ghost attack."

It was the best excuse to give. The fact that his parents were the most famous – well, the only – ghosthunters in this town so famous for attacks meant that they would assume that they were the reason he had been under an attack. It would, however, Danny knew, mean that dinner would include an uncomfortable barrage of questions from his parents about why they thought a ghost would attack him instead of them.

"Guys, I really don't have time to talk now," Danny said, accidentally slapping the palm of his hand hard against his bedroom door. "Our class is right after lunch, so …"

"Oh, of course," Maddie said. "But you really ought to be more organized, Danny. This isn't the first time you've had to come back during lunch to pick up your notes for a class."

"Maybe he needs another locker," Jack grinned. "Heck, I remember back in high school mine was so stuffed with plans for inventions and doodles I barely had room for anything else," his voice took on a lower and raspier tone and he leaned closer to Maddie; "and as I recall, yours barely had room for anything either."

Maddie giggled girlishly, her gloved hand covered her mouth. "Well, that's because you spent almost every day filling it up with love notes."

"Okay, ew," Danny squirmed. Sam was smirking at the two parents and Tucker had on a sympathetic wince for his friend.

"Come on, Maddie," Jack wrapped an arm around his wife's waist, both of them turning around and walking down the stairs. "I think I spotted some fudge in the kitchen."

Danny slammed his hand repeatedly against the door to his room, but it didn't budge. Strange – usually that was all it took for it to open. Sam rolled her eyes and reached underneath his body to grip the doorknob and turned it, swinging the door wide open.

"I guess you mist have closed it all the way for a change," she put her hands to her hips. Danny glowered.

Pushing them both in, he closed the door behind him and shuddered as he rested his body against it, thinking about the parting display his parents had left them with.

"Oh, stop," Sam chided, knowing instantly what his mind was on. "It was cute."

Tucker was already investigating the now-barren desk facing the window. "Where did you put the container?"

"In my closet," Danny nodded to the piece. He walked over and pulled the doors open, his eyes gliding through the objects in there. Clothes hung on the rack, with a shelf above for various things he had put in over the years, and on the floor were a number of boxes filled with items he had long forgotten about and didn't look at anymore; these days they mostly served to hide the supply of Fenton Thermoses he kept for ghost-hunting away from prying eyes , but since Vlad had given him his ghost half, he had also kept a little space at the back to hide it.

Pulling out the boxes from their place and putting them to one side, followed by the flasks, Danny's breath caught in his throat as he looked deeper to find …

… that it was still there.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's still here," he told Sam and Tucker, who were trying to look over his shoulder.

"That's good," Tucker said. He frowned. "Weird though. You'd think Skulker would take the opportunity of you being in school to grab it."

"Maybe … he didn't think it'd be a fair fight?" Danny suggested, running his hand through his hair.

"Or maybe he doesn't dare with your parents constantly in the house," Sam added.

"Or _maybe_," Tucker raised an eyebrow, "that's not what he's looking for."

"Well, I don't have anything else he would want," Danny said. "At least, I don't think so."

"But think about it," Tucker nodded to the container; "your parents are always home. They work from home. If Skulker took such a chance as to search for it in your room, he probably doesn't care that your parents would find him. In fact, it'd still be less dangerous for him to grab that thing while you're not around because then he'd only run the risk of running into two ghosthunters instead of three."

"Tucker's right, Danny," Sam said softly. "It doesn't make sense. Skulker plays dirty to get what he wants and he doesn't care who he has to fight to get it."

Danny sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Well, whatever it is, it's going to have to wait for now."

He picked up the black container, gripping it tightly with both hands, but sure to avoid pressing the button. "I'll take this with me so that Skulker won't be able to get it while I'm at school."

"Are you going to start carrying that around with you all the time?" Sam inquired.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

"Well, I wouldn't recommend putting it in your backpack," Tucker advised. "It'll just tumble around in there and the button will probably be hit by one of your books."

"I know." Danny said. "I'll just put it in my locker—"

"Skulker might get to it," Sam interjected.

"Well, maybe you guys should carry it around then!" Danny flared up, growing irritated with their lack of helpfulness.

"Oh, Danny," Sam said pityingly, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "We know it's a burden, but Vlad entrusted you with it."

"Why couldn't Vlad have just kept it?" Danny grumbled. "He's feared by a lot of people in the ghost zone, no one would dare to take it from his castle."

"But you go around beating up any ghost that crosses the line," Tucker said eagerly, putting a hand on his shoulder as well. "There'd be no one better for the job."

Danny moodiness lifted some, and he smiled despite himself. His friends' reassurances and signs of faith were comforting to him.

"Come on," he said to them, crossing the room and opening the door again. "We have to get back to school or Lancer will kill us."

"Man," Tucker complained as he walked out. "I wish we could take long lunches. Don't adults take them all the time when they're working?"

"I personally think it's a steadfast rule because Lancer would never allow himself to miss anything on a schedule. It must be why he became a teacher," Sam joked.

Feeling lighthearted again, Danny chuckled with the two of them closing the door behind him, enjoying the camaraderie that he felt had been missing for longer than he had truly realized.

Their jokes and laughter faded as they walked out of the house, and Danny's bedroom was silent once more, the only sound piercing through was that of them driving back for class.

Out of the shadows stepped a young man who had not been there earlier. Picking up the snow globe he found placed on a table, he tossed it from hand to hand, making a lazy game out of it.

"How long am I meant to do this again?" he asked the figure floating behind him.

"Not long," it said. "Everything is in motion. All you have to do is stick to the plan for a while longer."

"A while longer," the boy repeated. "Isn't there any way to speed this thing up?"

"Don't be hasty. You haven't forgotten, I trust, that your very life is at stake here. Any mistake on your part could be fatal." It drifted over to the window overlooking the street where Danny had parked previously. "I have planned this for months. Your part will be over soon enough. And before the school year is out, it will all be complete."

"His room isn't very threatening," the boy commented, looking around. "I'm a bit disappointed."

"Don't you have a school to go to now?"

A small smile spread over the boy's face and he placed the toy carefully back on the table.

"Yes. Yes, I certainly do."

------------------------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far. I know you all have questions, but I can't answer any of them of course, it would take the mystery out of the story. I just want to say right now that ever since I started writing the first chapter, actually even before that, I have come up with an entire plot that I think will tie everything up nicely. I've been going over the finer details again and again.

I intend for this story to be a trilogy, and have a sequel to it planned out. If I have the will, there will also be a spin-off following the events of Weak. This story, I've decided, is part one of a trilogy named Destiny Lies In A Moment. I've also named the other two stories and have a name thought out for both the sequel and possible spin-off.

Now that you have read it, please review for it gives me more motivation to write. :D

Oh, and one more thing: expect the rating for this story to go up as it develops, so if you don't see it in the following months, it will have been because it doesn't fall under the default K – T rating.


	7. And It Has Been Clothed

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Danny sank a bit into the back of his chair waiting for Dash to say something.

A whole day had passed since the incident in Danny's room that caused Dash to leave the Fenton residence without a word, and Danny had spent the day afterwards with his stomach in twisted knots wondering what consequences it would have. As it had turned out, Dash didn't appear the next day, giving Danny a welcome reprieve from the torturous program he had been subjected to spending everyday after school with Dash.

While it had left him with some free time alone, Danny had spent the previous day and the whole morning in school wondering what was to happen now, and in all his attempts to catch the other boy's eye, Dash had steadfastly refused to look at him. In all honesty, he had not expected Dash to react in such a way; lame though his excuse had been for the state of his room, Danny had not expected Dash to merely stare at him before turning around and stalking out the door. He, Danny, had followed him wondering in mute desperation what to do. Dash's fists had been clenched tightly, and though he could not see the jock's face at the time, having trailed behind him as he left, Danny had imagined a look of fury upon it, and had considered his options to either let him walk out, or ask why he was reacting in such a way, or beg him to stay.

Eventually, he had gone with the first choice and done nothing.

Now Dash was sitting on the couch across from him in his home, silently watching him with appraising eyes that seemed cold to Danny, and he was struck with a feeling of shame and awkwardness as he usually did when he felt as if he were being judged in some way. He felt like a naughty child whose parents were deliberating how to deal with. He wondered if Dash would say anything unless he prompted him to.

Shifting around in his seat, Danny cleared his throat, but far from sounding impressive in the way he had heard others do it, it sounded more like trying to work vocal cords someone had a stranglehold over. Dash's face remained impassive.

"You didn't come yesterday," Danny finally managed to get out.

Dash didn't respond for a moment, although the intensity in his eyes seemed to strengthen, Danny thought.

When Dash parted his lips, there was a smacking sound came with lips fastened too tight for too long. His tongue darted out to wet them.

"No, I didn't," he said quietly. "I spent yesterday thinking."

Danny's feeling of awkwardness increased, and he was distinctly aware of a feeling of apprehension that bloomed with that statement. "Thinking."

"About you," Dash clarified, changing his position on the one-person couch to lift his denim-clad right leg on to the arm, his eyes now situated on the raised leg, "and what to do about you."

"Dash—"

"I've been with the support group for over a year," Dash went on as if Danny had not spoken, "and in all that time, I have never seen any one of my charges lash out in a way like you did." His tone made him sound, Danny realized, like a father who was trying to understand why his child had done something outrageous.

"Dash you are reading way too far into this," Danny tried to explain frantically. "I wasn't lashing out, I—"

"You trashed your room because you were upset about this arrangement," Dash said in that same voice, not taking his eyes off his right leg. "You'd been complaining about it for days."

He finally turned his head to look directly at Danny again. "Or, I don't know, maybe it was something else. Maybe you got some bad news while you were upstairs or something. Maybe I shouldn't have left you alone for so long without checking on you."

"I'm trying to—"

"I decided to quit being your support mentor," Dash announced, his head turning back to look at his leg.

Danny's heart dropped. "What?" It was a dream come true. But, he realized, as horrible as he found Dash's presence to be, he didn't want the other boy to leave just because he thought Danny was too immature to be bothered with.

"I decided to quit being your support mentor yesterday," Dash repeated, now picking at a loose thread on his jeans. "But then I decided against it." He turned to face Danny again.

"I've put in too much work this past year to give up on someone now, Fenton, especially on someone like you," he said in a stronger voice. "If I ever gave up on you now, that bitch Alyssa would never let me hear the end of it, regardless of how many people I've taken on since I joined because she expects it. So, if for nothing else, I'll keep at it just to not give her the pleasure. While I'm around, that's going to be the last tantrum you ever threw."

He stood up imperiously, regarding Danny with a look of disdain as the raven-haired boy looked back at him with a shocked expression.

"You're weak," Dash told him. "You acted like the stereotype of how some fat, middle-aged comic book artist thinks a teenager in the new millennium would act. And I am telling you this for the last time – _grow up_."

He started to walk away, and it was then that Danny pushed himself to his feet and said loudly, "You arrogant, self-involved hypocritical bastard."

Dash paused, turning his head halfway. "What?"

Danny marched up to him, gripping the blonde's well-muscled arm and turned him around. "You always think it's all about you, don't you?" he said. "You walk into this house and the only thing you think is that I'm some morose character who's one black outfit away from slitting his jugular vein."

He pushed himself up against Dash, taking note of the stunned look he bore. "You're nowhere close to figuring out anything about me. Your stupid little mentoring programs aren't going to help you with that, so stop thinking that you have any right to judge me or anything you think I've done." As he said it, he couldn't believe that he had been so worried about Dash finding out his alter-ego as Danny Phantom. The only way Dash would have ever seen him for his true self, Phantom and all, would be if he transformed right before his eyes, and even then he would have to probably slap him to get the boy's attention.

"I already told you I didn't trash my room. Believe me, if I wanted to take my anger out on anything, I'd choose a better option than destroying the place I sleep in," Danny snapped.

Dash stepped forward menacingly, causing their bodies to push against each other. "Believe me, Fenton, if I didn't have so much riding on this, I would beat the crap out of you for that. And if you didn't do it, then I'm at least going to make sure that it never happens again."

"Fine," Danny retorted. "Just stop griping about your problems to me and then telling me I'm pathetic for being a whiny brat."

Pulling himself away from Dash's vicinity, he steadily marched up to his room, a small sense of pride surging through him for finally having voiced his frustrations about something in his life – and of course, there was the look Danny had seen cross Dash's face as he left.

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Danny didn't bother spending all day in his room this time; a few hours passed and he decided that he was hungry, knowing that Dash would be waiting the whole day anyway. With any luck, Dash would decide to leave once he saw his charge was alive and well for himself, and so it was with that hope that Danny went downstairs later that afternoon to fix himself a little snack.

Dash, however, seemed far from leaving – as a matter of fact, Danny jolted when he saw not one but two boys sitting down in the living room: Dash, and his best friend Kwan, whom he had apparently decided to invite over without Danny's approval.

The two of them had been sitting across from each other digging into the new packet of chips the Fentons' had just bought a few days ago when they caught sight of him.

"Jeez, Fenton," Kwan said to him. "You left your guest down here all by himself? That's not very gracious."

"That's because he's not my guest," Danny frowned deeply at Dash, pivoting to go into the kitchen. The two jocks joined him, Dash tossing the empty bag of chips into the trash while Danny fixed himself up a peanut butter sandwich. "What are you doing here?" he asked Kwan, not bothering to look up from his task or, for that matter, inject any emotion into his voice.

"I got lonely," Dash spoke for his friend, his tone vehement. At this point, Danny had neither the energy – having spent it all arguing with Dash earlier and silently raging against him in the time after that – nor the will to pretend to care about any message Dash sent him.

"Actually, I'm here on restraining duty," Kwan grinned sardonically. "Restraining you from trashing the place again or restraining Dash from killing you. Whichever comes first."

He shrugged, taking a bite of his food, starting to walk out. "Clean up whatever mess you make before you leave," he told them.

"What's with you, Fenton?" Dash said bitingly. Danny turned to him, a small taunting smile playing on his lips.

"Must be my bratty inability to care, Baxter."

Dash stared, then let out a little growl from the back of his throat. Kwan looked vaguely amused by the proceedings.

"Is this like a foreplay kind of thing you guys have going on?" he joked, earning himself strange looks from Danny and Dash, both seemingly having forgotten their current display of contempt for each other to stare at him.

Kwan grinned easily. Danny rolled his eyes, back to the indifference that had settled in him after the fight.

"Where are your parents, anyway?" Kwan called to him, now having pushed past Dash to dig into the refrigerator. "I thought they were, like, scientists working from home."

"Ghost-catchers," Dash clarified in what Danny thought was a tone too snide for one who had lived his whole life in a town renown for attacks from supernatural beings.

"Whatever," Kwan said, resurfacing and looking delighted with the block of cheese he had found.

"They used to work at home," Danny said, leaning against a side of the wall close to the door. "But they got offered jobs in Axion Labs after the Grays' moved out."

"Sweet," Kwan said. "You heard they were run out by ghosts?"

"Well, what did they expect, with Valerie chasing them all the time," Dash said. "What was her problem anyway; we already have Danny Phantom looking over the town, it's not like he needed any help from her."

"Didn't _you_ use to date Valerie, Fenton?" Kwan suddenly turned to him.

This caught Danny's attention; his relationship with Valerie Gray, while having spanned for years, had been practically non-existent, what with the both of them avoiding each other when dealing with ghost-hunting, not having enough time to spend on many actual dates, constantly being on-again/off-again, and general confusion about where they stood with each other. In the end, the relationship had never really taken off, although they had decided to spend her last night in town together before she moved last year. Danny hadn't known that anyone else aside from Tucker and Sam had been aware of the relationship and its status.

"Where did you hear _that_?" Danny inquired.

"Where _did_ you hear that?" Dash repeated, eyebrow creased. "And why? They're not in our circle."

"Thanks, Dash," Danny said coldly.

Kwan shrugged, looking briefly worried. "Around," he replied nonchalantly. "I wasn't sure if it was true though."

"We went on a couple of dates," Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, uncomfortable with the expressions on the faces of the two jocks. Kwan playfully nudged Dash in the ribs, causing the other boy to slap his arm away.

There was a heavy silence in the room afterward, which, in Danny's opinion, was not completely unpleasant – he preferred it much more that continuing a conversation with the other two.

Kwan broke it. "I'm bored," he declared. "Let's do something."

Both Danny and Dash shot him agitated looks again. Kwan, however, did not seem to mind, or perhaps did not care, as he sauntered out of the kitchen to wander about the living room, peeking into various doors that led him into a hall closet, a guest room, and finally into the basement that had been turned into a laboratory by Jack and Maddie Fenton.

"Cool beans!" he exclaimed, jumping over the last two steps at the bottom, Danny following behind him wondering if he ought to direct them out of the room for fear of anything going wrong. Dash walked behind the dark-haired boy, muttering to himself, "Cool beans, who says cool beans anymore?"

"What does this do?" Kwan said, nodding to a large, strange-looking device in the middle of the room. It looked as though there was a giant green spider's web in the middle.

"The Fenton Ghostcatcher," Danny told him. "My parents invented it about four years ago. It's supposed to remove ghost energies or something. It's like a dreamcatcher, but, you know, for ghosts. I guess."

"Neat," Kwan said, a polite smile on his face, walking away to look at a different object.

Dash yawned rudely. "Can we get out of here please?"

"In a minute," Kwan said. "Come on, Amity Park's been attacked by ghosts for years. Aren't you interested to see how Fenton's folks protect the place?"

"Like I said before," Dash spared a half-glance to Danny, "Danny Phantom's always done a good job. The other ghosthunters are just wasting their time while he's around."

"Danny Phantom can't be everywhere at once," Kwan said to his friend, picking up what looked like a rocket launcher with Jack's face on it. "I'm sure he appreciates all the help he can get – don't you think so, Danny?" he turned around, hoisting the weapon on his shoulder.

"Be careful with that!" Danny rushed forward to carefully remove it from Kwan's grip. "And … I guess so. I mean, I don't really know him, so …"

"Really?" Dash asked, tilting his head back to one side. "We've all noticed that you and the Phantom are usually close by. Not to mention you both share first names."

Danny stiffened.

"Coincidence," he offered. "In fact …" he paused, desperately trying to think up something that would satisfy Dash's suspicions, "in fact, it's how we bonded."

"Bonded." A muscle near Kwan's mouth twitched.

"Yeah," Danny said. "I met him one day, he told me his name, and I said that my name was Danny too, and that's how we met." He had said all of this very fast, nervously hoping that it had been good enough an alibi.

Dash seemed to think it was plausible enough, nodding to it, and Kwan smiled again before turning back to look at more inventions.

Danny inwardly sighed. In his frustration over the name the residents of Amity Park had bestowed his alter-ego, he had stupidly yelled out the name he had given himself, only stopping to consider how similar it was to his real name after winning a huge fight with the ghost Pariah Dark.

It didn't matter, he convinced himself every time his mind lingered on the event. No one would ever figure it out.

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It was already dark by the time Dash and Kwan decided to leave. Danny's parents had not yet returned from work, although Danny expected that they were already on the way back.

Opening the door for them to leave, Danny was suddenly struck by a sense of guilt over the trouble they had taken to be with him. True, he loathed that he was forced to spend each day with the man he hated, but Danny had enough sense to realize the effort Dash took to come every day and spend hours while Danny had displayed his discourtesy by locking himself in his room.

"You sure you're going to be okay?" he asked as they passed.

Dash rolled his eyes. "Fine, Fenton," he drawled, effectively removing any shame Danny had felt over his behavior. 'Don't hit your ass on the way out,' he wanted to say.

Slamming the door shut as soon as they had exited the threshold, Danny smirked in self-satisfaction.

He checked the time. It was only seven thirty. His curfew was not until ten. He fumed at the injustice of having to live with the same condition that had been imposed on him since he had been fourteen, but his parents hadn't wanted to take chances on Jazz and him, fearing that they would be in danger being out so late in a ghost-infested town like theirs.

Still, that gave him a good two and half hours to patrol the town for ghosts before he would be missed, and unless a ghost threatened past then – which, he had to admit, they did a lot – he could spend the time before bed finishing off his homework. If it was quiet, he wouldn't even need the full two and half hours to hunt.

Transforming into his black-and-white jumpsuit emblazoned with the letter D across the chest, his hair now white, and eyes an unearthly green, Danny jumped and floated upwards until he had passed through the floorboards of the level above and up through the roof. He could see Dash and Kwan across the street from his house; turning invisible he flew over to their direction.

"You going home?" he heard Dash ask the Asian boy.

"Nah. I think I'm going to hang out a while," Kwan replied. "It's too early to go home."

"Yeah, but I'm beat. I'll see you tomorrow then." Dash started to walk away, bidding goodbye, which Kwan returned with a raised hand.

Danny circled the streets, looking for signs of any activity. There were none, but he knew better than to let his guard down.

However, after a while of watching a mildly interesting game of night Frisbee between a middle aged man and his dog in the park, Danny decided that while the ghosts were away for the time being it would be wise to get in some studying time and patrol later on.

Turning around and heading back to his house, Danny failed to spot the mane of blue flame rising behind him, nor did he see the curl of the lips upon a mischievous face as fingers encased in a black gloved strummed deftly on the strings of an electric guitar. A giant fist rolled out from the instrument, catching Danny off-guard, punching him squarely when he turned around to locate the source of the noise.

"Hey, dipstick," Ember McLain greeted the half-ghost.

"Oh, god," Danny groaned, pushing himself off the ground. "Shouldn't you be retiring after so many flops?"

"Funny guy," Ember floated towards him, hand at the ready to strum her deadly equipment again. "I'll keep this little interlude short and sweet – tell me where you've hidden Plasmius's spirit, and I'll let you live."

"An ultimatum?" Danny snickered. Turning intangible, he launched himself at the girl, skidding past to reappear right next to her, "I think not, pre-Madonna." Uncurling his fist into an open-faced palm, an ectoplasmic blast managed to hit his adversary, hurling her back.

Recovering, Ember glowered, before taking off, zooming in the direction of Danny's bedroom in attempt to locate the soul Danny had acquired. Danny flew after her; he didn't know what this fascination for Vlad's soul seemed to be, but he'd be damned if he let a ghost take it from him without beating them half an inch of their afterlife.

As she headed straight for his house, Danny threw ball after ball of ectoplasmic energy at Ember, hoping to deter her from her goal, but veering left and right, she successfully managed to evade each attack. When she turned intangible, Danny knew the attacks were lost as they would merely go right through her; he turned intangible himself, and the both of them phased through the wall to enter Danny's bedroom.

"Get out!" Danny yelled. "Get out, get out, get out!"

Ember grinned at him, hands on her hips. "That's not very hospitable, dipwad. Now where is it?"

"You think I'm going to tell you?" Danny scoffed. "You're going to have turn tangible if you want to find it, and the moment you do, I'm blowing your ass right back into the Ghost Zone."

"You don't even _need_ that soul," Ember snapped, turning corporeal again when she realized that he was right. "And I promise you, stop me from getting it, and you're just going to have to deal with a thousand more to take my place. And I'll be back for it – and so will Skulker and every other ghost you could possibly dream of. You can't hold all of us back."

Danny turned tangible again as well, hovering above the ground, looking at Ember curiously. "Why are all of you so desperate to get your hands on that soul?"

"Power," Ember asserted.

Danny laughed, polishing his hand against his suit to mock her. "Well, I didn't know I had all of you so beaten down," he started to say, but Ember dug the end of her guitar against his neck.

"This is so not about you," she said. Danny's eyes flicked down to the instrument pressed against his skin worriedly. "I—"

But she was cut off, for at that moment, a green blast of energy jolted her away, and Danny breathed freely with the immediate threat of the guitar gone. Turning his head to see who had saved him, he stared in shock, feeling the icy calm demeanor radiate from Kwan as he stood through the doorway holding one of the patented Fenton ghosthunting guns.

"Kwan …" Danny croaked, his right hand twitching.

Ember stirred from her position, and keeping his eyes trained on her, Kwan cocked the gun in her direction. "Out of the way, Fenton."

Ember's eyes came back into focus on her attacker, jumping to her feet and holding her head to steady herself, but as Danny suddenly lost his concentration and stumbled back on the ground and away from the perimeter clumsily, Kwan got in another shot, knocking her back, and in a flash pulled out a Fenton Thermos, uncapping it to expose the light that Danny was so used to; leaping out of the way, he stared incredulously as the vacuum engulfed Ember and sucked her into containment.

Knees buckling, the events unfolding in front of him barely registered, as Danny's mind flashed through the five words over and over again.

_Out of the way, Fenton_.

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Author's Note: Thanks for all your reviews up until now everyone! Hahah yes, it has kept me motivated. I'm glad to see such a positive response to the news in the previous chapter.

I've been continually frustrated by my writing skills reading past these chapters. Not only do I find them very short, but they are riddled with errors in grammar and spelling, and I've noticed a tendency to repeat certain words, seeing them numerous times in one chapter. I have to say, I'm pretty satisfied with the way I wrote this chapter right now, and I hope it will improve from here. Thanks for bearing with me.

As always, read and review. I do love having a lot of them. ;)


	8. I'd Rather Be Listless

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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"How?" Danny lowered himself on to the bed. Kwan, having just sealed Ember in the Fenton Thermos, turned his head to the ghost boy's direction. Danny was bent over, arms resting on his legs, looking as though he were going to vomit at any moment. Kwan briefly wondered if the Danny was talking to him or himself. "How could you have found out?"

Kwan fisted the thermos uncomfortably. "It wasn't hard," he told him. "There were a lot of similarities between you and Phantom. You guys look a lot like each other, everyone's always thought so; it's just that the hair and the eyes, and, you know, we never knew you to be the hero type that threw everyone off. And there's the name. And we've all seen you with this thermos, and I know your father makes them—" he was rambling, he knew, but he couldn't stop.

Danny held up a hand to stop him from talking, turning back to the eighteen-year-old Kwan had known for years.

"You can't tell anyone," he looked up, eyes blazing with determination. "It would ruin everything."

Kwan grinned and raised his hand in solemn oath. "On my head."

Danny eyed him suspiciously. "Not even Dash?"

"Not even Dash," Kwan nodded. "Don't worry, Danny. I'm good at keeping a secret."

Danny regarded him silently for a moment, trying to figure out if he was actually meant to believe that. Wordlessly, he thrust out his hand, waiting for Kwan to give him the thermos. Kwan, however, didn't seem to realize that, as he slapped Danny five.

Danny hung his head exasperatedly. "The _thermos_?"

"Oh, right!" Kwan handed it over, a sheepish grin on his face. "What are you going to do with it?"

"I don't know," Danny murmured, taking a good look at it. He did not want to have to release Ember back into the Ghost Zone. From what she had said, it sounded as though everyone there would soon be after his blood; bringing her back would only give her another chance to come after him, more determined than ever to get the spirit. He focused back on Kwan and was surprised to see that the boy's face had darkened a little bit.

"You should put her back," he said.

Danny frowned. "What? Why?"

Kwan faltered. "Well, what would you do with her here? I mean, what if she gets out?"

"I've never known a ghost to get out of this before," Danny said. "Not unless it was broken or if the release button was pressed."

"But it's still going to take up space right?" Kwan persuaded. "If you keep collecting ghosts that come after you, this place will be filled with used thermoses pretty soon."

"No, you're right," Danny allowed. He knew this of course. "The thermos can fit multiple ghosts though. But I don't want her here."

Kwan nodded understandingly.

"And you care … why?" Danny raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I think everyone in this town has a vested interest in whatever Danny Phantom does," Kwan grinned jauntily, eyes crinkling.

Danny gave a feeble attempt at a smile in hopes of getting Kwan out of here as soon as possible. "I, um – my parents are going to be here soon," Danny informed him. "Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea for you to hang around right now. I mean, I'm sure they'll be too tired to put up with company."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Kwan nodded. "I was just about to leave."

Danny led him down and out of the front door, bidding him goodbye. Closing the door, he fretted, absentmindedly biting down on his lower lip and nibbling upon the soft tissue. Peeking out the window close to the door, he saw Kwan walking away, and rushed to the phone in the hall.

"Get Sam," he said when the person on the other line picked up. "And get over here. Now."

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Kwan hummed to himself, hands shoved deep in either pockets as he strolled down the street from Danny's home. He paused when he heard leaves rustle, turning his head to find the source, and smiled when he saw the otherworldly being waiting for him amongst the shrubbery.

He walked over.

"So you revealed yourself."

"As you knew I would at some point or another," Kwan replied.

"Of course. He, true to his nature, does not trust you." It leaned past to look at the FentonWorks building past Kwan's shoulder. "Even now he calls his friends over to consult over what ought to be done over this predicament."

"And now the next part of the plan."

"Convince him that you are a friend to him," it nodded.

"Just as easily done as it is said," Kwan smirked. "And now, I must go – it won't do, will it, to be seen in your company."

"No," it said. "And his friends must be rushing over as we speak. I will see you again."

"Fine." Kwan nodded, stepping back.

"And please," it called back to him before he left, "do Daniel Fenton the courtesy of not attending his funeral."

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Danny flung open the door the second he heard Tucker knock, not giving the boy a chance to do more than tap once, startling both he and Sam. Danny's eyes darted warily from left to right, as though he expected to see groups of people hiding in the bushes waiting to pounce on cue. Quickly, he grabbed his two friends by their arms and pulled them in.

"What's going on?" Sam asked in astonishment, catching her footing.

Danny turned around, pushing the door into place with his back. He looked tense, and there was a sort of air about him that reminded Sam strongly of a trapped animal.

"Kwan—" his breath caught, "Kwan knows."

Tucker blinked.

"Knows what?"

"_Knows!_" Danny exclaimed, hands raised as he went over to a couch in the living room and half-fell on the cushion. "'Knows' as in 'knows the secret that no one outside the three of us is ever, _ever_ supposed to know."

Sam gaped, going to him. "He knows you're half-ghost? How?"

"Vlad knows," Tucker added, joining his two friends on the seat.

Danny and Sam gave him an annoyed looked.

"How did Kwan find out?" Sam asked again, turning to Danny.

"I – I don't know," Danny said. "I was patrolling and Ember caught me off-guard; we started fighting, and ended up in my room. And the next thing I know, I'm held up at …" he sputtered, "_guitarpoint_, and all of a sudden, Kwan comes into the room and blasts her with one of my dad's ghost guns. Then he takes out the thermos and sucks her in – oh, and did I mention, he said 'Out of the way, _Fenton_,' before he trapped her."

Tucker and Sam didn't speak.

"Guys?"

"So, he just walks into your house out of the blue?" Tucker frowned.

"No," Danny shook his head. "Dash invited him."

"Dash was there as well?" Sam's eyes widened.

"_No_," Danny's voice took on a whiny tone. "Dash was over today, and he invited Kwan over, God knows why, and—what does it matter?" he cut off suddenly. "The point is, Kwan knows. What do I do?"

"What _can_ you do?" Tucker said. "It's not like you can modify his memory or anything."

"What did Kwan say?" Sam questioned. "Did he say anything at all?"

"Yeah, of course," Danny mumbled. "I asked him how he figured it out, and he said it was really obvious. You know, with the name and the face and all that."

"And?" Tucker pushed.

"And I told him he had to promise not to say a word," Danny told them. "He agreed. He said he's good at keeping secrets."

"Keeping secrets!" Sam threw her hands in the air. "_Those_ people? Danny, that's not going to hold! By the time you wake up tomorrow, the whole town is going to be talking about it. They don't know how to hold secrets."

"Yeah," Tucker nodded. "Remember the time in fourth grade when Kwan told the whole class that Sam—"

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Sam snapped. "Are you _still_ going on about that? It was eight years ago!"

"Oh, come on," Tucker grinned. "Remember how shocked we all were?"

"Tucker," Sam warned, clenching her fist.

"I just think it was such a crying shame, that's all," Tucker held his hands up in defeat.

"Yeah, I believe it was my crying shame that everyone was making fun of the whole week," Sam muttered.

Despite himself, Danny gave a small chuckle at his friends' antics and the memory of the incident in question. But in a moment, he returned to his somber mood. They were right; neither Kwan nor his clique were known to be able to keep secrets, and this was probably the biggest one Amity Park had to offer. What guarantee did Danny have that he wouldn't be this year's public freakshow? He wasn't close to the popular group, never having what it took to become a member of Casper High's elite; Kwan didn't owe anything to him that his word would uphold.

"So what do I do?" he asked, hugging a small pillow left on the couch.

"I don't think there's anything you _can_ do," Sam reasoned.

"Except blackmail," Tucker said, his mind having just landed on the option.

Sam looked at him in surprise, then turned to Danny delightedly. "There's an idea."

"How could I blackmail Kwan?" Danny raised an eyebrow. Tucker rolled his eyes.

"Go invisible. Intangible. Whatever. Who's better at discovering secrets than a ghost?"

Danny began to consider the possibility. It was desperate, and he had never done it before, not really. The secrets he had found about people around him in the past had sort of been delivered right into his lap. But what other choice did he have than to seek some leverage of his own? Danny sank back dejectedly. "But whatever secrets Kwan has can't match up to knowing who Danny Phantom's secret identity is. How do I beat that?"

They didn't say anything, each trying to come to a solution.

"If you can't beat him in quality," Sam said slowly, "maybe you could beat him in quantity."

"Of course!" Tucker nodded eagerly.

"All you have to do," Sam explained, "is to make sure that you have enough of Kwan's secrets to keep him quiet. He only has one of yours – but if you can dig up more than that, stuff that he doesn't want anyone to know, maybe he you'd have enough pull over him."

"It's a long shot," Danny mused. "But what other choice do I have right?"

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It wasn't, Danny found out, as easy as it sounded. In their haste to protect the secret, the three of them had forgotten about the fact that Danny was condemned to spend each day after school with Dash; it would do no good to try and dig out any secrets whenever Kwan decided to join his friend coming to FentonWorks. Danny couldn't bear the thought of looking at the Asian boy again, not until he knew that some damage control had been done to take care of this potentially explosive situation.

"You're gonna have to follow him then," Sam determined when Danny voiced his concerns about the plan.

"How?" Danny was growing more and more agitated with the entire thing. This was not how he was meant to spend his last year in high school, he was sure.

"Every night after Dash leaves, go over to Kwan's house," Sam said. "Eventually, I'm sure you'll find something … although, try to hurry it up – who knows what that jerk could do in the time until you get the dirt on him."

And so, Danny was forced to spend another afternoon with Dash and Kwan, steadfastly avoiding the latter's eyes whenever possible.

Fortunately, there wasn't much to put up with. The three of them mostly sat around the living room watching television, with Dash telling Kwan that Paulina was planning to throw a party in two weeks. It was a true sign that the animosity between Danny and he had not progressed when Dash completely ignored Danny when he spoke to Kwan about it, while Danny pretended not to care.

"You, uh, you think Paulina's still holding out that Danny Phantom will appear at one of her parties someday?" Kwan asked, his eyes stealing a glance to Danny.

Dash wrote this gesture off as his friend wondering if he was ever going to acknowledge Danny's presence and invite him to the party, which he had no intention of doing. He would already have to spend the entire afternoon in the Fenton residence thanks to this whole program, he had no desire to bring the loser into one of the exclusive parties he and his group were invited to.

"I don't think she'll ever stop," he sniggered. "It would be way cool for him to show up though."

"Yeah," Kwan leaned back in the chair, "but why would he bother to hang out with a bunch of really cool high school kids?"

"I'm going to get more soda," Danny muttered, getting up. He didn't know how much more of Kwan's teasing he could take.

Inside, he placed his empty glass on the kitchen counter and sighed, his tense body relaxing in the reprieve from Kwan's onslaught. He couldn't take the pressure; so much with Kwan being able to keep a secret.

Flipping open his cell phone, he quickly sent a text message to Sam and Tucker telling them that he was going to stalk Kwan that night, and would tell them everything when he got back.

Closing the phone again, he fixed his eyes on the glass, still not refilled, but staring at nothing. Unconsciously, he fingered it, gently running his index finger over the rim, and down the side, thinking about how his life had so suddenly spiraled out of control. In his mind's eye, Danny imagined a dramatized version of the way things were, watching himself decide that he had had enough and smash his wrist against the glass, and pull away to reveal a shared buried deep in his veins.

Shaking himself out of the fantasy, he set about refilling his drink.

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Finally around seven, Dash and Kwan said their goodbyes.

Peering out the window as inconspicuously as he could, Danny made sure that the two boys had reached the other side of the street before morphing into Danny Phantom once again. Turning invisible and intangible, he shot through the door, pausing as Dash and Kwan separated, and trailed behind the Asian boy, hoping that he would simply go home and not anywhere else. It was, after all, extremely early.

Danny floated higher, anxious to keep a distance between the two of them, even though he knew that there was no way for Kwan to see him. It just made him feel safer, what with so much at risk.

Fortunately, Kwan turned into the street that Danny knew was his own, recalling the times he, Sam and Tucker had passed by to see the popular group milling about enjoying one of the parties the rest of the student body could only dream to get into.

When Kwan went in, Danny was waiting for him in his room, still invisible, undetected. He briefly wondered how he was to snoop around if he were intangible. He didn't expect Kwan to simply blurt out whatever deep, dark secrets he may have to an empty room. Danny supposed he would have to wait until Kwan left the room to get anything done.

That wasn't how things were going to go, it seemed: Danny winced and averted his eyes as Kwan began to strip out of his clothes, and didn't turn his face back until he had redressed.

Now dressed in a tank top, shorts and sports shoes, Kwan left his room and headed for another, which Danny discovered was a workout room; there were weights all over the place, and a punching bag was in one corner of the room, which was what Kwan headed for. Danny watched in surprise as Kwan began to hit it, at first gently, but as time moved on, the attacks became harder and more powerful. He had obviously been doing this for a while.

Danny wasn't sure how much time had passed; in the back of his mind, he knew that this was his chance to go back and search around Kwan's room, while he was busy with his exercise routine, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He wondered where Kwan had learned to punch like that. It wasn't with the clumsy strikes people his age hit with; there was certain grace in his movements, and every punch told Danny that he fought with an experience one was not meant to possess unless circumstances, like Danny's own with fighting constantly against ghosts, forced it.

Eventually, Kwan slowed down and ceased altogether; he was sweating profusely, and Danny was sure that his muscles ached after the intense routine, but rather than take a break, Kwan jogged over to where a skipping rope hung, and, pulling it out, began to work with it.

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"I'm telling you guys, it wasn't normal," Danny insisted over the phone later that night. He had just left Kwan's place and was now back in his own house, having made it back before his curfew, and was now currently engaged in a three-way call with Sam and Tucker up in his room.

"All he was doing was working out. What's the big deal?" Danny could hear the confusion in Sam's voice.

"I have to agree that it's just wrong for a person to work out for so long at night after a hard day of classes, but he's a jock Danny, that's all he knows," Tucker chimed in.

"It wasn't the fact that he was working out that was weird," Danny told them. "It was the way he did it. When he was using the punching bag, he was … skilled. Like, _years_ of skill."

"Maybe they've had that punching bag for years," Sam said indifferently.

"Maybe," Danny said. "But it didn't look like it. It looked like he knew how to fight. How to really fight."

Tucker snorted. "Must be from all those years he used _us_ as his punching bags."

"So you didn't find out anything at all?" Sam sounded disappointed.

"No," Danny apologized. "I was just in there with him the whole time. He worked out for over two hours."

"Over two hours?" Tucker exclaimed. "And you didn't look for anything suspicious in all that time?"

"Well, that looked suspcious," Danny argued, rolling his eyes. "Oh, and another thing: after he stopped with the punching bag, he went straight to the jump rope – and he _jogged_ to get it."

There was silence on the other end.

"So?" Sam finally asked.

"Well, what kind of person, after working out that much, jogs to get a jump rope and immediately starts. He didn't give himself enough time to breathe. His muscles must have been aching, but he didn't relax for a while. Who does that – I'll tell you who," he had come up with his theory on the way back home, "someone who's working towards ... _something_, not someone who's just working out to maintain his body or whatever."

"He probably didn't want to break his rhythm," Sam rationalized.

Danny bit back a frustrated groan. "Look, I'll talk to you guys later," he said. "I need to get my homework done."

"Okay," Tucker said. "Bye."

"See you tomorrow," Danny clicked off the phone and put it back down on its receiver.

He knew he wasn't imagining it. Sam and Tucker didn't know; they had never had to fight before, not really. Danny recognized the furious desperation of a person whose body burned with exertion but didn't have the luxury to stop. That ws no regular workout session, he was sure of that. Kwan had had a goal in mind throughout it all, but what it was, Danny didn't know.

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The next day was Saturday, and Danny couldn't have been happier about it. Unable to write his assignments for dwelling on Kwan's mystery, which the more he thought about, the more unsure he was about its existance outside of his mind, he had abandoned all attempts on schoolwork for seeking out any ghosts in the area to vent his frustrations upon. The box ghost, who he had spotted making his way to the box factory, had provided as a nice little outlet.

Today, Danny planned on spending some much-needed time alone and to stalk Kwan more later. However, while enjoying a nice bowl of frosted cereal, his plans changed when the doorbell rang.

Maddie got up to answer it, and a second later came back in with Dash Baxter trailing behind her.

"Dash!" Danny jumped up, staring at the blonde boy in surprise.

"Get your running shoes, Fe—Danny," Dash told him. He smiled at Jack and Maddie angelically.

"Hello, have we met?" Jack asked in a boisterous tone.

"Yes, Jack," Maddie answered for Dash. "This is the nice boy that Jazz used to tutor before she went to college." At Jack's blank expression, she continued, "he also joined our Ghostateers team that time just before Danny Phantom attacked the mayor."

"Ah yes!" Jack hit his fist on the table excitedly.

"How do you do, Mister Fenton?" Dash said politely. He turned back to Danny.

"Get your stuff."

"Uh, Dash—" Danny gripped him hard by the elbow and led him out of the kitchen and into the living room. "What are you doing here?"

Dash raised his eyebrows. "Uh, I'm here as part of our arrangement, remember?"

Danny stared at him in horror. "You mean this includes weekends too?"

"No rest for the suicidal, Fenton," Dash smirked.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

"I can't spend all day with you," Dash went on. "Even I'm not _that_ dedicated to waste an entire Saturday here. So come on, we'll just … hang out a bit," he said this as though it mortally wounded him, "and call it a day if you promise not to cut yourself or whatever afterwards."

"I don't know, a Saturday morning with you and self-mutilation sounds pretty tempting," Danny taunted.

"Shut up Fenton," Dash hissed, careful as Danny's parents were in the next room.

"What about all that stuff about not wanting to be seen with me in public?" Danny questioned.

Dash frowned. "Well, screw that. Kwan's probably already told everyone. Dude's the biggest mouth in town after Paulina and Star."

"Just what I needed to hear," Danny murmured softly to himself.

Dash frowned. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Well, then go get your gear. Let's go."

"Um, Dash?" Danny said, "you still haven't told me why I would want to waste a perfectly good Saturday morning with _you_."

Dash cocked his head. "I'll do better than that," he smirked before sauntering into the kitchen announcing, "Mister and Missus Fenton, I have to tell you something—"

Danny's eyes widened in horror; he rushed over to Dash, who was blocking the entrance to the kitchen and hissed, "Okay, okay, I'll get changed."

"—I really love that huge silver billboard blimp thing on top of your roof," Dash gave them a flattering grin.

"Why thank you, Dash," Maddie smiled back. "It's actually—"

"It's actually a prototype jet that we built!" Jack jumped in. "Not as fast, but …" his voice took on a loving caress, "… you'll never find another baby safer."

Maddie patted his hand.

"Okay," Danny grumbled, walking down the stairs and pulling a white tank top over his body, "I'm here."

"See you later," Dash waved goodbye to them and went with Danny to the front door.

"I'm so glad Danny's starting to be around more friends," Maddie said to Jack, pausing to take a sip of her coffee. "He shouldn't limit himself to just Tucker and Sam."

"Ah, don't worry Maddie. He's a good kid. Probably as well-liked as I was in high school," Jack replied, biting into his toast.

"Yes, Jack," Maddie smiled indulgingly.

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"I really hate you."

"I really hate _you_."

Danny and Dash had been running for twenty minutes and had so far been exchanging the same insult, or ones barely varied, back and forth the entire time.

"I have to say, Fenton, I'm impressed you've managed to keep up so far." Dash panted. "I thought you'd have passed out by now."

"Just another example of how much you know, I guess," Danny wheezed. In truth, he wanted to kill himself. Surely death was better than this: his legs were screaming, he could barely catch his breath, and what little of it he did have left was wasted trading insults with Dash. He both admired and envied the smooth sheen of moisture coating Dash's pale skin; he was sweating like a pig.

Along their run, the passed the Odyssey Gym, and Danny slapped Dash's arm in irritation. "Why don't you just get a damn gym membership and do this there?"

Dash glanced at the gym and snorted. "Please. I'm already a member, thanks. But only losers run with air-conditioning."

"Is there any other word in your vocabulary to describe a person?" Danny demanded.

"Plenty, Fenton," Dash said. "I can give you another name if you want."

"Shut up, Dash," Danny muttered. He stopped in surprise though when he caught sight of a familiar figure by the large window of the gym. Dash caught sight of this and paused.

"What?" he asked.

"I didn't know Kwan was a member here," Danny said, watching him head for one of the rooms that were almost completely out of sight from where Danny stood now.

Dash turned around and saw who he was talking about. "The whole team has a membership," he shrugged. "Gotta keep the physique up, you know. I didn't know he worked out this early on Saturdays though."

"I'll be right back," Danny told him.

Dash frowned in confusion. "What? Where are you going?"

Danny didn't reply but ran around the building. "Fenton!" he heard Dash cry as he ran. Turning invisible and intangible in his human form, Danny slipped into the building and looked around to see if he could spot Kwan. No luck.

He headed for one of the rooms, and saw a bunch of people spinning; another room revealed middle-aged and older women doing some sort of yoga-type of exercise; finally, he found a room with only one person in it: Kwan. There was a pommel horse in the center of the room, and Kwan, dressed in clothes similar to the ones Danny had seen him in the night before was vaulting upon it, performing agile movements that Danny hadn't known he was capable of.

He heard the front door swing open and poked his head out to see Dash walk in, a deep frown on his face, no doubt looking for him.

Quickly, Danny left the building, taking one last look at Kwan who was still working the horse without pause. Walking out the side of the building, he rematerialized outside and jogged over to the front. He saw Dash looking around in annoyance, thinking he'd be inside. Danny rapped sharply on the window, catching the boy's attention. Dash came outside and stared at him curiously.

"Where were you?"

"Oh, um, I went to take a leak," Danny lied.

Dash curled his lip. "Where?"

Danny folded his arms across his chest. "This is why we should have done this in the gym."

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They were silent as they continued with the remainder of their run. Danny used this time to think. Dash knew Kwan better than anybody else, and even he didn't know that Kwan had taken to working out so early on Saturday, which meant two things, as far as Danny was concerned: either it was a very new activity, or it was a secret.

With his manic routine the previous night, and now strenuous aerobics in such a short time later, Danny was more convinced than ever that Kwan was up to something. The question which plagued him was _what_?

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Author's Note: Thanks for all the great reviews up until this chapter. I hope to hear from more of you. evil review whore grin

Thanks, everyone, for the compliments on keeping everyone in-character.

Nonasuki-chan: Thanks so much for the comment about the cliffhanger. This update fast enough:p

Please read and review, everyone:D


	9. On Dead Ears

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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"Danny, you have really got to stop obsessing over this Kwan thing," Sam said.

It was Saturday afternoon, and Danny had picked up Tucker shortly a couple of hours after his run with Dash, and they had both gone over the Manson residence to hang out with Sam for the day. Currently they were lodged in the movie hall, as Mr. and Mrs. Manson didn't think that it was proper for Sam to have a boy, let alone two, up in her room alone, and had given explicit instructions to the staff to make sure that it didn't happen.

"I don't know why you're so opposed to this," Danny replied. "My suspicions have helped us figure out a whole bunch of stuff before."

"Maybe because we've known Kwan practically our whole lives?" Sam raised her eyebrows at him.

"How much do we really know about those people anyway?" Tucker asked, shoveling some popcorn into his mouth, not taking his eyes off the movie playing. "Just because we've all gone to the same kindergarten, grade school, middle school and high school with them doesn't mean we know anything."

"The man's got a point," Danny smiled confidently.

"On the other hand, Danny _is_ making kind of a big deal about a jock exercising," Tucker finished.

Now it was Sam's turn to smile confidently. Danny glared at Tucker.

"Look, we've gone over this all day," Danny said. "I'm not going to change my mind – I _k now_ Kwan's up to something. And if I'm not … well, I've spent four years trying to survive life-or-death situations, you can hardly blame me," he folded his arms across his chest and focused on the screen determinedly. "I just came to ask you guys if you wanted to come with me when I go spy on him tonight."

It was then that Sam started to blush, and Danny stared at her in surprised.

"I can't," she told him. "I'm – I have a date."

This was enough to catch Tucker's attention as well.

"_You?_" Danny gaped.

Sam frowned unhappily at him. "Yes, I can get a date, thank you very much."

"Oh, you know I didn't mean it _that_ way," Danny quickly amended. "It's just … how did it happen?"

"Yeah," Tucker munched, leaning towards the edge of his seat to look at her past Danny. "When did you meet someone?"

The redness on Sam's face hadn't faded, and indeed deepened with the question. "We kinda met last year, in November," she told them. "It was when my parents took me on that walking tour of Princeton when I told them I was considering applying there. I needed to get away from them and that stupid guide for a few minutes, and ran into him in the halls. He was on his way to class." She had a little smile on her face as the last sentence left her mouth. "Anyway, we've been IM-ing each other ever since, and he told me last week that he was going to be passing through Amity Park on the drive home, and asked if he could see me."

"Why doesn't he just fly there?" Tucker asked, confused.

"Well, college students aren't exactly renown for having all the money in the world," Sam said sarcastically. "Besides, he'll be back in college soon; he just had a free week and decided to spend it at home."

"So it's not an actual _date_ then," Tucker pointed out.

"It's an actual date," Sam insisted so rapidly that she gave the distinct impression of having expected it from her friends.

Danny had been rigid this whole time, never taking his eyes off Sam. "You're going on a date with a _college student_?" he finally burst out.

Sam looked at him in surprise. "What's your problem?"

"Nothing! I—" Danny stumbled for something to say. "You're going on a date with a _college student_!"

Sam looked at him crossly. "Yeah, thanks for the newsflash," she said impatiently. "God, why is everybody making such a big deal out of this? I would have expected you guys to be normal, but I can see that there's no such thing around here."

"You're one to talk," Tucker jabbed. Sam gave him a dirty look. "Don't tell me your parents know about this?"

"Yes, they do," Sam said firmly.

"And they're letting you go through with it?" Danny's voice rose

"I am not going _through_ with anything," Sam retorted. "It's just a date. You know, just because you've never been on an actual one—"

"Whoa, hey!" Danny cut her short. "I have _been_ on an actual date."

"Sure, with Valerie," Sam snorted. "Like that went anywhere."

"I thought you said he was just some guy you've been IM-ing?" Danny gripped the arm of his seat. "Where do you expect it to go?"

"Oh, come on, Danny," Sam rolled her eyes. "You're just as bad as my parents. What, you think I'm going to end up some pregnant teenager who ends up pole dancing to make ends meet?"

"No, but—you know what those guys are like! Come on, Sam, you've heard stories!" Danny argued.

"Winston is a nice guy," Sam got to her feet. "And if you have a problem with me going on _one_ date with a guy I've spent months getting to know, well … then maybe I have a problem with you being in my house."

Tucker stared at her blankly. "You're asking us to leave?"

"Yes, I am!" Sam bellowed, angrily pointing to the door.

Danny and Tucker sat frozen in their seats, sharing a look with each other, not quite sure what to do. Finally, Danny rose and without a word moved to the door and pulled it open with such a force that the golden handles slammed against the wall. Tucker got up too, sneaking one last sip of his drink, and followed Danny out.

"I can't believe her," Danny muttered as he started up his car.

"Yeah," Tucker said, looking as though his mind was already on another topic. "I can't believe she's going out with a guy named _Winston_."

Danny sighed heavily. "Tuck, don't you get it? It's bad enough she's going to meet someone she got to know mostly over the Internet, but who knows what sort of sex-starved deranged maniac this guy might be? I mean," he turned sharply to Tucker with an expression so comical Tucker almost burst out laughing, "they have _roofies_!"

"I think you're getting a little carried away," Tucker could not hold back the little snicker that managed to escape him. "Sam knows what she's doing."

"I can't believe her parents are letting her meet him," Danny continued darkly. "What are they thinking?"

"I don't think Sam cares what they want," Tucker pointed out. "I mean, the girl wears goth when her parents want her to wear Shirley Temple."

Danny chortled despite himself. "I guess so."

"So you're going to spy on Kwan tonight?"

"I _was_," Danny told him. He gave Tucker a meaningful look.

"Oh, Danny," Tucker groaned. "Don't."

"We have to at least make sure that this guy's okay, don't we?" Danny pushed. "I mean, Sam's our friend, isn't she? What kind of people would we be if we didn't check this guy out for her?"

Tucker sank low in the passenger seat.

Danny took his silence as agreement.

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Dash Baxter hurried to the front door of his house when he heard the doorbell ring. His parents were out at work, and there was no one home except for him. He wondered who is was, who was knocking so hastily on the wood; he hadn't invited anyone over for the day.

Pulling it open, he was surprised to see Kwan outside.

"Hey, what's up?" he greeted his friend.

"Are you going over to Danny's place today?" Kwan asked without pre-amble, stepping into the threshold. Dash moved aside, allowing him in.

"No," he said, a little confused. "Why would I?"

Kwan didn't look like he expected that response.

"Why not? Aren't you his caretaker for the semester?"

"I'm not going to spend my Saturday with him," Dash told him, moving towards the kitchen to get a can of Kwan's favorite soda from the fridge. Tossing it to him, he said, "It's bad enough I wasted my Friday over there."

Kwan rolled the soda along each hand, not taking his eyes off Dash.

"Why do you care so much?" Dash asked, starting to get creeped out by the way his friend was acting.

Kwan didn't reply, turning his eyes down to stare at the soda can instead. Dash thought he didn't hear the question, and opened his mouth to repeat it, but then Kwan replied, "No particular reason."

If the weird vibes hadn't been apparent before, they sure were now. Dash shook it off.

"I'm glad you're here anyway," he said, leading the two of them back into the living room they had passed. "Graduation is in two months. You know, we should really start planning that road trip we're going on."

He turned around, only to have the little grin on his face wiped off by the blank look Kwan was giving him. He didn't seem to even know what Dash was talking about.

"You know, the one we planned last summer?" Dash pressed, a hint of a frown creasing his forehead before vanishing. "We said we were going to take off the day after graduation?"

Kwan started. "Of course," he said softly. "I remember."

"Right." Dash wasn't so convinced. "So anyway, I was thinking, since we'll be gone all summer long, we should start by going into the City, and maybe after that we can—"

"Actually," Kwan interrupted, "why don't I get back to you on that?"

Dash stopped short, words having failed him. "Get back to me?"

"Right," Kwan nodded.

"Don—don't you wanna go?" Dash questioned, not understanding.

"I may have some other plans," Kwan told him enigmatically. "I don't know how long it'll keep me tied up."

"Oh," Dash blinked. "I thought you said you were going to be free all summer."

"I know," Kwan nodded, a small smile on his face that was probably meant to comfort his friend, but, as far as Dash concerned, failed miserably. "Don't worry, I'll probably be free. I just wanted to let you know now instead of later on. Just in case, you know?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Dash nodded, still unable to get over his surprise.

Kwan seemed ready to get off the topic, and swinging his arms, he said, "So, you're really not going over to Fenton's place today, huh?"

"No," Dash told him. "I was over there earlier. We went for a run."

"I see," Kwan nodded.

"Why do you want to go over to Fenton's place so bad?"

"Oh … no particular reason," Kwan made for the front door, not waiting for his host to show him out.

Dash turned slowly as Kwan walked past him. "Hey, Kwan?"

"Yeah?" the Asian boy didn't bother to turn around.

"What are these plans you have that are going to keep you so busy?"

"Nothing much," Kwan told him, opening the door and already putting one foot out. "Don't worry, Dash; I expect to be done by the time the school year is out."

And with that he closed the door, leaving Dash to contemplate his best friend's strange behavior, his ominous feeling only rising when he caught sight of the can of soda left on the table, left unopened.

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"This. Is. So wrong." Tucker enunciated.

"Would you relax?" Danny chided. "I know what I'm doing."

"Okay, that may be the most worrying thing of all."

"You know what I mean," Danny rolled his eyes.

The two of them were currently up a tree in the town's small park, with Danny in the lead, balancing himself precariously on a study branch, with Tucker holding on to him for dear life. Directly below them were Sam and her new friend, Winston, the reason Danny had insisted on coming here tonight. Tucker had started off by gripping on to his friend's calf, but had gradually raised his hand further up to grip on to Danny's thigh.

"Uh, Tuck? Riding a little high there."

"Shut up, Danny," Tucker growled. "You're the one who wanted to do this in the first place. Your leg's not as secure as your … upper leg." He moved his hand a bit lower, but not much, realizing just how close it had been to his friend's butt.

If it had been up to him, they would have been on the beautiful, beautiful ground rather than up here, and there would have been no touching in any uncomfortable places. Hell, if it had been up to him, they wouldn't even be here right now. But in order to stay invisible just like Danny, he needed to maintain a physical connection with his friend. Thanks to his growing fear of falling, he had been forced to seek a more sturdy part to hold on to than Danny's scrawny leg.

Danny snickered, but quickly changed focus when he saw Sam turn to her date. "She's going to say something!" he shushed his friend.

Tucker strained to hear what was being said, but it was no use. They were too high up.

"Great," he sighed. "All this work for nothing."

"Would you be quiet?" Danny snapped in a hushed whisper.

"Danny, we can hear anything," Tucker whispered. "We're too high up!"

"Please. I've heard plenty of conversations this way," Danny scoffed. "The only difference is that in all those times I didn't have someone next to me getting in the way."

"Then why didn't you do this yourself?" Tucker demanded in that same hushed tone, his hands gripping Danny's leg and the tree's branch harder.

"Because it's our duty as Sam's friends to—_augh!_" he broke off with a scream, followed by Tucker's, as the branch gave way to their weight. Though invisible, Danny had not turned intangible, and it seemed that the combined weight of the two boys was too much for the tree to handle.

Falling too fast to even think about turning intangible, the two boys landed on the ground with a _thump_, the force of the landing turning them visible again.

"Wow," Tucker said, pulling himself up into a sitting position, "that wasn't as hard as I thought it would feel!"

"Get off of him, you jerks!" they heard someone shriek. Turning in the direction of the sound, they saw Sam standing over them, her amethyst eyes blazing with rage, her hands flying about her wildly. "Get off! Get off! Get off!"

Danny and Tucker scrambled to their feet, clumsily stumbling over each other in their haste. Winston groaned below them.

Tucker winced sympathetically, but Danny looked oddly smug.

Well, perhaps it wasn't so odd.

Sam reached to help her friend up, teeth bared, and spun around to face the two of them.

"What do you think you're doing?" she blasted. "Where did you even come from?"

Winston cupped his side tenderly, looking dazed and confused with everything going on around him.

"Wha – what's going on?" he managed to utter.

Face flushed, Sam's gestured to the two of them. "These are my two _idiot_ friends," she spat out, "Danny and Tucker." Her eyes traveled up the tree next to the four of them. "They must have been up there," she pointed.

"Um, hi, it – it's nice to meet you," Tucker nervously stuck out his hand, which Winston slowly shook, after giving him a strange look. Danny stared at him coldly as though Tucker had just betrayed him.

"What are you doing here?" Sam's eyes flashed.

"Getting some fresh air?" Danny offered, not sounding very concerned that he had just been caught spying, nor that he'd just caused bodily harm to his friend's date.

Sam narrowed her eyes and tapped her foot, clearly not amused.

"Are you okay?" Tucker turned to Winston.

"Fine," Winston waved away his concern, pain still evident in his face. "It's not every day you have two guys land on your back."

Danny had that cocky smile on his face again.

"Look, we'd better get you out of here," Sam told him. "You can come rest over at my place."

"What?" the smile had vanished without a trace from Danny's face now.

"And _you_—" Sam jabbed a finger in his direction, "I'll talk to you later."

"Fine," Tucker thought Danny's voice sounded almost petulant. "Come on, Tuck. I know when we're not wanted."

"Well, that's not true," Tucker pointed out as they walked away. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come here in the first place."

"You've really got to learn when to keep your mouth shut," Danny nudged him none too gently in the ribs. He turned around to get a last look at the couple before leaving, and his pace slowed and his face went blank. Mystified over this sudden change, Tucker turned around and saw Sam lean in and kiss Winston on the lips.

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"Don't say anything you'll regret."

Danny turned to Tucker sitting in the passenger seat, an uncomprehending expression on his face.

"Why would I do that?"

"Danny, I had to practically pull you all the way to the car after what we saw in the park," Tucker reminded him.

"You did not," Danny gripped the steering wheel, focusing back on the road in front of him.

"Did so," Tucker insisted. "Look, I know you. Don't fly off the handle. I mean, it's not Sam's fault she's attracted to the guy."

"I don't care if she _is_ attracted to him," Danny bit out. "Sam can do whatever she wants. We just went to make sure she was okay, remember?"

Tucker knew that there was nothing he could do to deter Danny from this excuse. "Yeah, Danny," he said softly. "I remember."

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Having dropped Tucker back at his house, Danny drove back home slowly. He wasn't in any rush, knowing that Sam would be coming over to chew him out for his earlier stunt.

Reaching home, he parked across the street. His heart nearly stopped when he saw Sam was standing by the door waiting for him. She must have rushed over as soon as she had lain Winston down. Danny silently cursed himself for taking so long; if he hadn't, he could have probably beat her home and gone out ghost-hunting to delay the ugly confrontation for a while.

Sam did not look happy. Indeed, she wore the same scowl Danny had seen in the park. 'I didn't do anything wrong,' he reminded himself as he walked towards her. All the same, that didn't stop an involuntary gulp from manifesting itself.

"Sam," he greeted.

Years of friendship told him that she was biting the inside of her cheek right now, a vain attempt at remaining calm. Any second now and she would—

"_What the hell were you thinking?_"

She would blow up.

"Now, Sam look—" Danny tried to dissuade her.

"No, you look, Danny," she said his name as though it were a foul word, "I told you that I was going to be fine and that I knew what I was doing. I don't know what you told Tuck, probably some lame excuse about how you guys 'owe it to me' or something …"

Danny blushed.

"… but I can't believe that you would actually spy on me like that," she finished. Her fists were shaking with anger.

"We were just worried for you!" Danny defended himself, raising his arms to the sky.

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure," Sam rebuked. "Four years of ghost-fighting, and you worry about _this_?"

"Oh, come on, like those guys are even a challenge anymore," Danny sneered.

"And you thought Winston was, and what, you powerbombed him from a tree?" Sam put her hands to her hips, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

Danny noticed some of the neighbors starting to peek out of their windows with curious looks.

"Okay, you know what, this isn't the place for this," he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside the house roughly, slamming the door shut. Sam pushed past him and his parents, who had come out of the lab to see what all the commotion was. The two of them rushed upstairs, not looking at each other. When Danny had closed the door to his bedroom, and the windows, however, the started yelling at each other again.

"When is anyone in this horrible town ever going to treat me with a little respect?" Sam bellowed.

"Stop acting like a spoiled child," Danny roared back. 'Oh my God, I have _got_ to stop spending so much time around Dash,' he realized.

"I already said that I knew him—"

"How much can you know about a person through the _Internet_? Come on, Sam, you know better that that!" Danny emphasized to her. "I don't see why you're making such a big deal out of this."

"Why I'm making such a big deal?" Sam exclaimed. "I think I'm being way too calm about it."

"What if it had been Technus?" Danny asked. "It wouldn't be the first time he's possessed a computer."

"Oh, and I guess the fact that I _met_ him beforehand has nothing to do with it," Sam said acidly.

"You're damn right it doesn't, those guys are tricky."

"I thought you said they weren't even a challenge anymore?" Sam shot back.

"Yeah," Danny rolled his eyes, "for _me_."

Sam's mouth dropped open.

"I will pretend you did not just say that to me."

"Why not, it's just another thing you're apparently ignoring." Danny dropped into a sitting position on is bed.

Sam stood stiffly. "Care to tell me what you mean by that?"

"Oh, please," Danny sounded drained. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Humor me," Sam said harshly.

Danny raised his eyes to her. "You know we're supposed to be together."

This got to Sam. Her face softened a little bit, and her body slumped forward.

Taking a seat next to Danny, she waited for him to continue. He evidently picked up on this, because he did. "It's just," he sighed, "we've been dancing around this thing since, like, puberty."

Sam sniggered.

"Everyone's picked up on it. After a while, you and I did too. I know you did," Danny went on, turning his head to face her. "But then, everything got in the way; you know, with the … thing; and then Valerie—"

"And Gregor," Sam added. "Elliot. Whatever."

"Right," Danny gave a sort of half-grin. "I kinda thought we would get past all that and everything would work out in the end, you know?"

Sam stared at him.

"What?" he squirmed. "Don't tell me you didn't think it?" He felt embarrassed now.

"No," Sam turned her head quickly to look at her knees, "I guess I did. Sort of. It's just …" she turned back to him. Danny shook his head, nonplussed.

Sam seemed to be arranging whatever it was that she was going to say next. Finally, she said, "What did you think would happen after we graduate?"

"What?" Danny hadn't expected that.

"Well … Valerie moved last year, and you never made a move. We've both never gone on more than a couple of semi-dates since then. You never made a move – and neither did I," she amended when she saw him open his mouth to protest, "and now, we're going to leave Casper in two months time, and what's going to happen then?"

Danny blinked, choosing to focus on the floor. Sam was right; he hadn't thought about the future. His mind flashed back to his encounter with Mr. Connor: "What are your plans for when you graduate?" he had asked, and Danny hadn't been able to answer. He had no plans; being presented the task of protecting the town from ghosts who wanted him annihilated had left him with a mentality of surviving one day at a time; he hadn't thought what would happen once he left high school and once life had ceased to be spoon-fed to him because it had never been as pressing a concern as evading that next ectoplasmic blast.

"I don't want to be your choice because I'm available, and because the chemistry's there," Sam told him. "And I know you don't either. There may be something, Danny, but we've waited so long, and really, not for any good reason. If it took us until now to get to this point, whatever we have can't be very strong."

Danny nodded, still not looking at her. He knew she was right.

"And …" she paused, brushing her thumbs against each other, a nervous habit she had picked up somewhere along the line, "I'm going to Princeton. If I get accepted I mean. What's going to happen to us then?"

"We'd break up," Danny's voice sounded heavy, as though he hadn't used it for a very long time.

"Yeah." Sam was looking at the ground too. "I don't want us to get together now, only to break up by the time the semester begins. Five months. That's all we'd have."

Danny nodded, then looked up at her again, forcing a smile on her face. "I guess what we have right now is too good to throw away for five months," he said. Sam nodded sadly.

"It's just that it's always been there, I guess," Danny told her. "It was like one day …"

"… it'd feel natural enough to pursue," Sam finished for him. "I know."

There was a pregnant pause.

"You look pretty," Danny said quietly. Sam looked down at the fancy red shirt and long black skirt she was wearing.

"Thanks," her face reddened at the compliment. "My mom bought it on one of her trips. The skirt that went along with it felt too girly."

Danny laughed a little, a genuine smile on his face this time, however small.

"I'm gonna go now," Sam stood. "I'm glad we got a chance to talk about this."

"Me too," Danny said in a false cheery voice. 'My entire life is slipping away and I don't know how to get it back.'

Sam smiled at him, and opened the door, jumping back when Jack and Maddie Fenton fell through, identical looks of surprise on their faces. The glass Jack had been holding rolled out of his hand. "Excuse me," Sam muttered, stepping over their prone forms.

When she was gone, Danny lay back on his bed, wanting to scream. Instead, he pulled his pillow over his face, paying no attention to Jack's statement about not understanding how anyone was meant to hear anything through those damn cups.

"Danny, sweetie, you okay?" Maddie asked with concern in her voice.

"Fine, mom," Danny responded, still not taking the pillow off his face.

"Ah, don't worry slugger," he felt the bed dip low as Jack sat down at the end. "There are other fish in the sea. You'll be okay."

"Thanks, dad," Danny said without emotion.

The two of them knew that there was nothing more they could do for their son, so they left the room reluctantly, shutting the door behind them. Even then, Danny could still hear his father exclaim, "I swear, Maddie, all the sound gets trapped at the bottom of the mug!"

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Author's Note: I know I promised Danny/Dash uses garbage can lid to as a shield against rotten tomatoes being flung It's coming, I swear. I just didn't want to leave the whole Danny/Sam thing Butch set up unresolved and jump into the "Danny didn't mind getting together with Dash because at that moment he realized he always liked boys better" excuse. This made more sense to me. So for Danny/Sam haters, sorry you had to endure that (I kinda like the thought of them together though :p) I'll make it up to you soon.

Thanks everyone who reviewed the story. Please keep it up, and I hope to hear from more readers too. Reviews are my idea of irresistible poison. :)

Fallan Phantem: I don't know why you didn't get an alert for Chapter 7, but I hope you got one for Chapter 8 and this. Thanks for letting me know. Could others please tell me if they've been getting alerts for the story or not, because I would hate to think that you guys are missing it after putting this story into your Alert list. Thanks.

As always, please read and review!


	10. His Life Is Dark

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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"Are you just going to lie there all day, Fenton?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks."

Dash drew his lips into a thin line. It was Monday afternoon, and he was on the seat he normally sat on when he came over. Danny had been sulking in school the whole day, not saying a word and keeping his head down; refusing to look at his friends, whom Dash had seen throwing concerned looks at him all day; and afterward, Danny had allowed Kwan and he to come in with nary a greeting, had drooped down on the couch, and hadn't moved since.

Dash shared a look with Kwan. The Asian had looked more worried, but then again, he had never seen Danny close off first-hand before. Dash was only surprised that the boy hadn't locked himself up in his room this time.

It was time for Dash to put his support skills to the test.

"Look, Fen—Danny," he said in his most sensitive voice, "this is what I'm here for. I can tell you're down, and you should talk to me about it instead of keeping it bottled inside." Saying this line always made him wonder if psychologists actually talked to their patients like this. What a bunch of crock.

Danny, however, seemed to be in the mood to complain, so it was to Dash's surprise – and chagrin – that he began to open up.

"Well, let's see," he started, "I found out that I've missed my chance with Sam, probably my only chance to be happy, I haven't given a single thought about what I'm going to do after high school, I've blown my options apart, my only true friends are leaving at the end of summer, and I'm just going to be … _here_. Just here." He brought his arm up to lie over his eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fenton," Dash snapped. "This can't have been the first time you realized you're a loser; it's the whole reason we're stuck together in the first place."

Kwan stared at Dash as though he couldn't believe what an idiot he was. "You are _really_ bad at this."

Danny looked at Dash when he heard Kwan's statement, lowering his arm a little so that a little bit of one eye was revealed. "It's true. You are."

"Why are we even talking about me?" Dash gave Kwan a look one would reserve for a traitor. "Fenton's the one with the crisis here."

Danny closed his arm over his eye again and let out a moan.

Dash exhaled sharply. Weakling.

"Fine. Fine. You're not a loser, okay?" he didn't bother to sound like he meant it.

"Thanks, Dash. My life is all better now."

"Oh, come on, Fenton, what do you want from me?" Dash hated how childish he sounded.

Danny peeked out at him again from under his arm. "How about doing your job that you claim to be so competent at?"

Dash gave him the evil eye.

"So, Dash," Danny said sweetly, getting far too much pleasure out of the jock being the one ganged up on for once, "aren't you going to come over here and play doctor?"

Kwan grinned. Dash's cheeks flared.

"Just tell me what's wrong, Fenton."

"My psychiatrist has no bedside manner for one," Danny replied complacently, propping himself up with his arm.

Dash raised his eyes heavenward. Kwan snapped his fingers once.

"Chop, chop!" he said cheerfully, one hand having run through his hair and resting at the nape of his neck.

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"What if I just stopped caring?" Danny questioned softly.

He lay on his side, one arm underneath the side of his face, twirling a long stick he had found in the water. Hunched behind him was Tucker, looking lazily on. After another half-hour with Dash and Kwan, he had decided that he had had enough, and left the house. "Do whatever you want," he had told them, closing the front door behind him. He had then called Tucker to meet him in the park, and together they had made their way to the pond where they were sitting now.

Tucker didn't reply, but Danny didn't mind. He was in a weird mood, he knew. But maybe this was how one was supposed to act when one's heart got broken. His heart didn't feel broken, but maybe it wasn't supposed to feel like that.

In any case, he liked this feeling. He hadn't analyzed it much, because analyzing was a waste of time and energy. He wished that that was his mantra. Thinking was irrelevant. He had never been allowed to think so before because he had always been thinking about how to evade the next punch, the next blast, and the next detention.

"I should break my heart more often," he said in the same soft tone which gave him the feeling that only he could hear the words.

Danny could see reflections of the clouds and the sky, looking at the water, and he felt a sense of discomfort disturbing the serene scene by spinning the stick. He spied some kids playing with remote-controlled boats, and hoped that they wouldn't come to where he was. If the ripples he was creating on his own were starting to bother him, he couldn't imagine what the ripples from the boats would cause him to feel.

'Why doesn't this pond have ducks?' he wondered briefly.

"So I'm guessing last night with Sam didn't go well."

"I don't want to talk," Danny said. His voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt pressing against his lips when he drew his arm closer.

Tucker fell silent, but Danny could feel his eyes boring into him.

"She's leaving," he informed. "For Princeton." He didn't know why he said it; he had just told Tucker that he wasn't interested in talking, and especially not about that, but feeling his friend's eyes on him, waiting to be included in what had happened, the words had come out of Danny's mouth, and now felt like a barrage about to be set loose.

"I can't believe I never thought about it," he went on. "I never imagined Sam not being a part of my life any longer. I didn't think she would leave this _soon_, you know? God," he rolled on to his back, tossing the stick elsewhere and not noticing the resulting cry of "Oh my God, Junior! Junior!", "how did this ever creep up on me?"

"I don't know, Danny," Tucker pulled his legs closer to his body, wrapping his arms around them and resting his head on his knees. "It's just something we never talked about."

"Well, we should have talked about it!" Danny said vehemently.

Silence descended upon them again, although the tranquility that had been present earlier was no longer there. Danny sensed that there was something Tucker wanted to tell him, but wasn't sure how to. One look at his face confirmed it. "What?" he asked.

"Danny, you know I'm leaving too right?" Tucker rushed out, grateful that he hadn't had to bring it up with his own opening. Danny met him with a blank look. 'Oh, this is not going to go well.'

The raven-haired boy didn't say anything, only blinked once.

"What?" he finally managed.

Tucker looked down. "Um, yeah. I've been applying to a bunch of places. I don't know if I'm going to be in Amity Park for much longer." He took the time to look up at Danny and quickly added, "But I'll be here to help you fight whenever I can."

"No," Danny sighed, rubbing his eye. "That's okay, Tuck. I knew this was coming."

"You did?"

"Yeah," Danny replied. "I mean, Sam's leaving, why shouldn't you?"

"You can leave too," Tucker said tentatively.

"No," Danny sat up, shaking his head. "This place has only gotten worse since the Ghost Portal was created, and now that it has, I don't think there's any real way to seal it. My place is here."

Tucker nodded. He had already known this, of course. He had just thought it wouldn't hurt to push the idea. Danny had given a lot to protect the city, but to stay here all his life was not an issue the three of them had felt comfortable discussing.

Danny took a deep breath, taking in his surroundings. "I never really enjoyed the park before," he said absent-mindedly. Tucker wasn't sure if that had been directed to him. "The benches were always too stiff, and I was always too worried about rain." He paused. "This is nice."

"It is nice," Tucker agreed. The three of them – heck, any one of them – didn't usually have time to enjoy being down in the park. Especially on a Monday afternoon. Tucker supposed that he ought to start on his homework, but Danny had called and asked him to come, and Tucker hadn't wanted to refuse after what he had expected to be a bad confrontation between Sam and him.

Plus he had wanted to hear all the details.

And now he found himself thoroughly enjoying having a lazy day; no homework (not right now anyway); no ghost-fighting; no jocks hanging around his best friend. He reached down to cup the PDA in his pocket protectively. There were some things a boy had to have with him at all times, after all.

He was suddenly struck with a paranoid feeling. "_You're still going to hang out with Sam, right?_" he practically screamed. Danny jumped, looking shocked by the sudden outburst.

"Yeah," he replied when he had collected himself. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"No reason," Tucker said, calming down. "Just asking."

Danny eyed him. Tucker flashed a sheepish grin.

They were quiet again for a few more moments. Tucker looked back up to ask Danny something, but the words died on his lips when he saw the creature sneaking up on them. Danny had his back turned to it and hadn't noticed anything. In fact, he was twirling a small blade of grass around with his finger. "Danny!" Tucker exclaimed.

"What?" Danny looked at him, frowning. Tucker pointed.

Turning around, Danny's eyes widened, catching sight of the ghost.

"Aw, crud," it said, forgoing all attempts at being stealthy and lunging at them. Danny quickly grabbed Tucker's hand and turned them both intangible. When it had passed through, they returned to their regular tangible forms again.

"Bullet!" Danny was confused. He had not anticipated an attack from the former militant. "Does Walker know you're here?" Though Danny and Walker were constantly at odds with one another, they had left each other alone in recent times, knowing that they both basically wanted the same thing: order in the Ghost Zone. Danny had taken it as an unspoken agreement between them that whenever ghosts appeared on his turf he would deal with them, and once they were returned to the Ghost Zone it would be Walker to keep them in check; ghost appearances had largely decreased in recent years in Amity Park anyway, what with them being afraid of Danny, and – he assumed – with Walker locking up every being that broke one of his rules.

"Of course he doesn't know," Bullet scoffed. The ghost was Walker's second-in-command, and as far as Danny knew, had never dared to disobey the warden. "It won't matter soon enough though, once I take care of business."

"Let me guess," Danny drew himself into a fighting stance, already transforming into his alter-ego. He gave himself a mental kick in the head for not thinking to check that nobody was watching, but then again, that's what Tucker was for; "you're here for Vlad's spirit."

"Smart boy," Bullet breathed. "Not that I expect you to, but give it to me and I shall let you walk away unscathed."

Danny took a moment to mock-consider. "You're right," he said, "you shouldn't have expected me to." With that, he rushed to the ghost, but Bullet was ready for him, reaching out grabbing the ghost boy by the throat. Danny let out a strangled sound.

"Pathetic," Bullet sneered. "How you managed to survive this long is beyond me. There must be more incompetent annoyances running through my world than I thought." With a flick of his wrist, he managed to fling Danny back into a tree.

"I really need to take up bodybuilding," he groaned. His back ached from the hit, but he ignored that and made his way to the ghost once again.

Tucker watched in horror as Bullet easily took Danny's arm, twisting it in a way that rendered his friend useless. "You are hardly even a challenge," he breathed, leaning close to Danny's face. "Come, boy, give up to me," he extended a small combat knife, "and I will make this a more pleasant affair."

"You know," Danny grunted, struggling to get out of Bullet's grip, "I may not have the brawn—" he went suddenly still, "but you know what makes up for that, don't you?" His hand turned intangible, escaping the vice grip easily, Bullet changing forms along with it, and then reforming as soon as the connection had been broken between them. Danny took this opportunity to land a firm punch straight to the purple ghost's face while Bullet hadn't realized what happened. Bullet stumbled back, clutching his nose.

Danny smirked. "It's a natural progression; the bigger you are, the dumber you get. At least, that's what TV's taught me anyway. And jocks. Thermos." He directed the last line to Tucker, who rushed to get it out of his bag.

Unfortunately, Bullet had managed to recover in the time Danny spent gloating, and soared towards the hero, knocking him back into the tree again, and without pause going in for a few more strikes. Tucker watched, frozen, and Bullet reached out for the thermos. Realizing what he meant to do, Tucker quickly drew his hand back. Bullet growled, but had no time to go after the human, for Danny had taken the momentary reprieve to kick the ghost out of his way.

Danny's gloved hand glowed green with the beginnings of an ectoplasmic blast, which he let loose on his adversary. "Give me the thermos!" he ordered. "Now!"

Tucker hastily tossed it to him, and with another blast to keep him down, Danny uncapped it and aimed the light at Bullet.

"That was close," Danny let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding in.

"I'll say," Tucker commented. "For a second there I thought you had a challenge."

"Ha ha," Danny smirked. He lost all traces of amusement, however, when he examined the thermos.

"What?" Tucker asked, worried that it was broken or something.

"Bullet is Walker's main man," Danny mused.

Tucker shrugged. "Yeah, so?"

"_So_," Danny stressed, "Walker and I don't get in each other's way. Why would Bullet come after me?"

Tucker shrugged. He didn't really see where Danny was going with this. Aside from the few conflicts his friend had had with that psychotic warden, they did keep out of each other's way, but a ghost was a ghost. So what if one decided to attack, no matter how close he was to Walker?

"Bullet said that it wouldn't matter what Walker knew or didn't knew once he had gotten Vlad's ghost from me," Danny was beginning to put the pieces together. "Ember said that she wanted it because it would give her heightened power."

"A ghost's gotta have power," Tucker reasoned.

"True," Danny allowed. "But since Vlad gave me his half, all the attackers have been focused on is getting it for their own use. Why are they so desperate for it? Just because it's a quick fix?"

"The more power they have, the higher their status right?" Tucker said. "Not to mention you've kicked their butts so many times before that they're probably hoping this will give them an edge."

"Even Bullet?" Danny challenged. "He's never had it out for me before, not really. Why start now?"

Tucker shrugged. "What do you figure?"

"I've got a hunch," Danny told him. "I'm not sure how right I am though."

"What is it?" Tucker leaned forward. Danny looked around, and once he was sure no one was around, transformed back to his regular self.

"An uprising," he held the thermos up, gripping it firmly with his fingers. "It would explain why they want Vlad's soul so bad."

"You think … what, there's gonna be a civil war or something?"

"Maybe," Danny said uncertainly. "Maybe a revolt against Walker? A lot of ghosts hate him, and maybe the reason we haven't seen any around lately is because he has them all locked up."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to bring Bullet back to him," Danny decided. "And tell him what I think. He's not going to be happy with what his first man did. I'll ask him what he knows; maybe he can clue me in."

"Well, be subtle," Tucker warned. "If you're wrong, you'd just have Walker locking up everyone up for mutiny or something."

"Are you kidding?" Danny grinned. "I am the _king_ of subtlety. Now, come on, I'll fly us back home."

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When they walked into the house, Dash was on the phone, but abruptly slammed it down when he caught sight of the two of them. "Thank God!" he fumed. "Where the hell were you?"

"Out," Danny said coolly, closing the door behind Tucker, who was staring agape at the two of them speaking so freely and the fact that Dash seemed to have gotten so comfortable in the house.

"Shut that mouth, Foley," Dash turned his attention to the techno-geek. "You're gonna attract flies." He focused back on Danny. "Where's Kwan?"

"How should I know?" Danny said. "He's _your_ friend."

"He went out to look for _you_," Dash said. "In fact, he went after you only a minute after you left. How could you have missed each other?"

"I guess we did," Danny shrugged, not very concerned. "Tucker and I are going down to the lab. Don't follow us."

"Whatever, Fenton," Dash grumbled, going back to the phone and calling Kwan's cell again.

Downstairs, Tucker asked, "What do I do if Dash comes down and sees you're not here?"

"Stall him," Danny said. "Get him out of the room, because I don't know when I'll be coming back."

"What if you get in trouble?"

Danny thought of a solution. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes, come find me," he said.

"Better make it ten," Tucker advised. "I don't know if I'd be able to hold Dash off for fifteen minutes."

"Fine," Danny agreed. Opening the lock his father had installed upon the portal with his thumbprint, he took the thermos with him and made his way in.

Entering the Ghost Zone always left Danny a little disoriented. The feeling of the floor from the other side completely cut off on this side had him adjusting to floating about, and the sudden onslaught of green and doors took getting used to.

Once he had caught his bearings, he made his way to the prison located deep within the Zone. Occasionally, a random ghost would come about here and there, but avoid Danny. There had been one that seemed to recognize him and made its way towards him, no doubt hoping to get Vlad's soul, but a couple of blasts had deterred it.

Finally, he found what he had been looking for: the prison was guarded by outer walls that made it look more of a fortress than anything else, and it hung in limbo just like all the doors did. Making sure he had a firm grip on the smooth brick, Danny changed into his human self and quickly drifted through the walls and into the prison.

'How do I find Walker?' he wondered, looking around the area, but it turned out that he didn't need to.

"Danny Phantom," he heard the warden's gravelly voice behind him. Danny turned around, setting his eyes on the stern, almost skeletal face of the Ghost Zone's self-elected law enforcer, dressed in his typical white garb. "What brings you here?"

"I came here to return something to you," Danny said in a forceful tone. "One of your men attacked me a few minutes ago in my world."

"Impossible," Walker rebuked. "I authorized no such action. My men know not to go after you unless it is on my orders."

"Oh yeah? Tell that to him." Danny pressed the release button and uncapped the thermos, which promptly shoved Bullet out of it, causing him to drop on to his hands and knees before the warden.

Walker's face tightened as he gazed upon his right hand man. "Bullet," he declared.

"Walker – I—"

"When did this happen?" Walker looked back at Danny, ignoring his charge's pitiful pleas.

"About a half hour ago." Danny was gazing down at Bullet's form, his eyes flashing in anger. "How do you explain that?"

Walker dropped his eyes down to Bullet once again, who hung his head in shame. "I cannot. I had thought all my men were loyal to me and the pacts that I hold. Rest assured, this one will be dealt with."

Danny met Walker's eyes, hoping that he could silently convey that he wished to speak to him in private. Walker apparently understood, because addressing the ghost between them once more, he said, "Bullet, get out of sight now. Wait for me in my office. And I expect you know better than to run from this place."

Bullet wordlessly got up and shuffled out of the room. Danny's eyes watched him go, and when the door closed, he turned back to Walker. "He was after Vlad's soul," he informed.

Walker showed no reaction, only waited for him to continue.

"This past few weeks, I've been attacked by three ghosts, Bullet included – all of them wanted the spirit."

"Vlad's soul; you mean to tell me that he has given up his ghost powers?" Walker questioned.

"You—you didn't know?" Danny was caught off-guard.

"Being warden of this place does not leave me time to pick news from the grapevine." Walker told him. "I lock up the law-breakers, not listen to their gossip."

"Yeah, well, I think you should listen to this one," Danny cautioned. "Three ghosts in a row all seeking for extra power. I think there may be an uprising or something ahead. And I want you to keep me informed."

"All of them no doubt looking to tip the scale in their favor," Walker dismissed. "Still, you haven't survived this long not relying on instincts. Why should I bother about what the ghosts wish to do in their time on Earth? It is in their nature, and I cannot deny the urge to fight. It is up to you on how they are dealt with on your soil."

"Because if there's an uprising, it's going to happen here in the Ghost Zone," Danny informed him. "You're about the only person in this place I can actually trust … somewhat. I need you to keep me informed; our little truce depends on it, and I'm sure you know by now that I'm not someone you want to mess with." To highlight his point, Danny stuck his hand right through Walker's body, reminding the ghost that no harm could befall him in the Ghost Zone while in his human form.

When he pulled out, Walker rubbed his broad chin thoughtfully. "Very well," he decided. "I will make Bullet tell me everything he knows." A sadistic smile crossed his face, and, invincible or not, Danny was glad that he would not be on the receiving end of whatever the white ghost had planned.

"An uprising," Walked mused, a hint of glee in his voice, pushing past Danny to go through the door Bullet had just gone through. "Think of the law-breakers that will have."

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Author's Note: This chapter was shorter than the recent ones, because I'm tired and had to get through writer's block for this. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

Thanks for all the reviews in the previous chapter, I hope to hear from more of you guys. :)

Nonasuki-chan: There are plenty of really amazing Danny/Dash fics out there; I'm sure you've already come across them, but in case you haven't let me whore out evolutionaryspider's "Grim Reaper Boogie", KimuraSato's "Romance in Black", and a whole bunch of other series that I'm too tired to think of right now. :p They're all excellent. You can find the two I mentioned in my Favorite Stories section.

I have an announcement: in a certain chapter, I said that I had a trilogy, a sequel, and a spinoff (if possible) planned for this series; after much consideration, I have decided that Part 2 and Part 3 of the trilogy – which are close to each other in terms of timeline – will be combined into one, and the sequel will be the new Part 3. It all falls a little neater that way.

Hope to hear some feedback:D


	11. Begin To Fall Down

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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In the next few days, Danny waited anxiously for any sort of news from Walker. Having told Tucker what happened, and being told, in turn, that Dash had been looking for him and was now extremely suspicious about what went on in the lab, Danny could only mull over what it all meant.

He still hadn't seen Sam since the night they decided that they were going to be just friends, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or upset about it; additionally, he now had to put up with the strange looks he caught Dash giving him every once in a while.

"What did you say?" he had asked Tucker, no doubt in his mind that he had had something to do with it.

Tucker had scuffled uncomfortably, reminding Danny that he had given him permission to do anything to get Dash out of the room.

"Tucker, what did you do?" Danny had demanded impatiently.

A little more hesitation and Tucker finally admitted that he had told Dash that he, Danny, was in the bathroom masturbating because of a sudden erection that had popped up.

Danny's eyes had nearly fallen out of his head when Tucker finished. "_What?_" he had screeched. "How could you tell him something like that?"

"You told me I had to get him to leave no matter what!" Tucker had protested.

"And—and you thought telling him I was jerking off was the answer?" Danny had asked faintly.

Tucker had merely shrugged apologetically. "It worked, didn't it?"

And now three days had passed, and Danny was on the edge of his seat waiting for something to happen.

"Come on, come on," he muttered during lunch. "What's taking so long?"

"What?" Tucker asked thickly through the food in his mouth.

"Walker can't be taking this long to interrogate Bullet," Danny leaned in close, so as to avoid speaking louder than absolutely necessary. "Something must be going on."

"Bullet's a tough guy," Tucker rationalized. "I mean, he wasn't Walker's right hand man for nothing, you know? It can't be as easy to break him down."

"I guess you're right," Danny said agitatedly. It made sense, but it did little to calm his nerves down. Every day that was wasted was another day the Plasmius spirit was in danger of being whisked away by some random ghost looking for a power trip.

"Where's Sam?" Tucker looked around. The Goth girl hadn't joined them for lunch in days.

"Huh?" Danny was pulled out of his thoughts. "Oh. I don't know."

"Don't you think you should be a little more concerned?" Tucker raised an eyebrow.

"Sam's a big girl," Danny protested. "She doesn't need me to take care of her all the time."

"Uh, she does when you're the protector of this town, and when all the ghosts are after the thing you asked her to keep," Tucker pointed out. Danny paused, his fork in mid-air. With all that had happened with Sam, he had forgotten that he had entrusted the container to her and asked her to hide it in the safest place she could think of.

"Fine," Danny reluctantly agreed. "Let's go find Sam."

The two of them made their way, passing a group of jocks who were noisily making jokes and poking fun at their peers. "Idiots," Danny muttered under his breath.

Inside was more quiet, the cafeteria filled with teachers and students who preferred to stay indoors during the lunch period; most seniors ate outside or left campus for better food. Danny scanned the area for Sam, but Tucker found her first, sitting by herself munching on an apple she had bought while reading a book.

"Sam!" he called as the two of them made their way over to her and sat down.

"Oh," Sam seemed a little uncomfortable by their arrival. "Hi, guys."

"Hey," Danny greeted after a beat. He wrung his hands together nervously underneath the table where neither of them could see. "So … I haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah," Sam said quickly. "I've been spending time at the library. You know, reading up on things."

Tucker watched this exchange with mixed feelings of amusement and concern.

"Danny went to see Walker the other day," he offered in order to keep the conversation flowing.

"Oh?" Sam asked. "Why?"

Danny scratched the back of his head. "Well, Bullet attacked us on Monday while we were at the pond. And he said something that I found suspicious, so I brought him over to Walker."

Now Sam seemed interested. "What did he say?" she asked, losing all traces of nervousness in her voice.

"Oh," Danny seemed taken aback by this sudden change in atmosphere. "I asked him what he thought he was doing, since Walker and his men aren't supposed to attack me any more, and he said that Walker didn't know that he was here; and it wouldn't matter once he had Vlad's ghost half with him."

"So he wanted it too," Sam looked thoughtful. "There must be something big going on, if Bullet is willing to break that pact. He's powerful enough in Ghost Zone—"

"Not if he wanted to get out of Walker's shadow," Tucker argued. "He's only ever been second-in-command. I don't think he's appreciated it very much."

"True," Sam gave him that.

"We thought it might mean that there's something happening in the Ghost Zone," Danny remembered to keep his voice down. "Maybe all these ghosts are trying to revolt against Walker or something. It would explain why they're so desperate for power."

"That doesn't make sense," Sam surprised them.

"Why not?"

"Well," she said slowly, "for one, why would Skulker and Ember care? Walker's prison is practically impenetrable, isn't it? So if they attacked you, they must not have been on the inside."

Danny hadn't thought of that. Walker's prison was extremely hard to get out of; he himself didn't have any trouble once he had figured out that nothing in the Ghost Zone could hurt him if he remained in his human form, but before then it had been a struggle just to survive.

"They could have wanted the powers so that they could destroy Walker and remove his threat once and for all," Danny said.

"Maybe," Sam considered. "But it doesn't seem like them. All the ghosts we've met in the past have been self-serving. Even when Pariah Dark attacked, all they cared about was saving their own skins instead of anyone else's. I can't imagine that they'd have a united front over someone like Walker."

"Maybe they don't have the same agenda then," Tucker shrugged. "It doesn't matter. The point is they're all after the Vlad's ghost half. It could be for different reasons. Bullet may be after Walker, but Skulker's always been after Danny. He could want extra power to gain an edge. And Ember, she's power-crazy, isn't she? Not to mention that they could all be trying to kill you as well."

"Ember said that this wasn't about me," Danny reminded. "But yeah, I guess you're right."

"Maybe next time a ghost attacks you should ask why it wants the extra power," Sam suggested, taking another bite of her apple.

"They're being mysterious about it," Danny told her. "You'd think they'd have revealed their plans by now."

"Well, with any luck, Technus will be after you next," Tucker joked. "He couldn't keep a secret if his afterlife depended on it."

"Well, I know one way of figuring everything out," Danny said. "I'm going back into the Ghost Zone. Today."

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Since Dash and Kwan were due to come to his house that day, Tucker was once again on guard duty while Danny ventured back through the Fenton Ghost Portal. However, flushing at the memory of the alibi Tucker had given last time, Danny had decided that it would be best to ditch the two, and when the final bell rang, hurried home with Tucker.

His parents, thankfully, were nowhere to be found, so Danny wasted no time heading down to the laboratory.

"If Dash and Kwan get here before I come back, tell them I went out," he instructed menacingly.

"Sheesh, I got it," Tucker said as though Danny had no reason to worry. Danny narrowed his eyes, and activated the lock with his thumbprint, and, changing once more into Danny Phantom, floated through to the other side.

Taking no chance, he powered up his hand, the green ectoplasmic glow circling his fingers to ward off the ghosts that passed by his path. Once again he reached the white fortress, and, clinging on to brick, changed his form into his regular human self to pass through to the other side.

There was no one around this time, and so Danny went through the doors and walls until he found the room which he knew to be Walker's office. Walking in, he found the ghost warden there sitting behind his desk.

"Phantom," Walker acknowledged in greeting.

"So, did you find out anything?" Danny asked. He wanted to get straight to the point and leave; he hated being in the Ghost Zone's prison.

"Nothing. Yet." Walker added.

"What?" Danny couldn't believe his ears. In all the years that they had known each other, Walker had never failed to intimidate; Danny couldn't imagine the white ghost not being able to extract information now. "You didn't find out anything at all?"

"It's a delicate situation," Walker told him. "Much more so than what I'm used to."

"What do you mean?" Danny didn't understand.

"Whatever Bullet's hiding, he's determined to keep," Walker said. "Beating it out of him is no use; he defied me, and therefore whatever he wanted with the soul is larger than the fear I strike in him."

"So what you're trying to say is … you're useless," Danny pointed out.

"_I am not useless!_" Walker hollered immediately, as if he had been contemplating the issue himself.

Danny backed away, and the ghost seemed to have caught himself, for he straightened up and cleared his throat. "This is simply going to a little longer than I expected," he clarified to an amused yet frightened Danny. "I have far more persuasion tactics to break out."

"I don't know why he'd bother keeping it to himself," Danny mulled. "While he's in here, there's no way he can get to the soul, so he might as well tell you why he wanted it." Unless of course, the reason was that he wanted to destroy Walker, in which case it'd be an afterlife of eternal pain from the ghost warden as punishment.

"Where is the soul?" Walker asked. "Bullet is a desperate man; who knows what kind of fantasies he may have of getting it."

"It's out of his reach," Danny said. "Tell him that, see if that brings any results."

"Fine," Walker nodded.

"Where is he?"

"Solitary confinement," the ghost informed him. "He is my highest priority."

Despite himself, Danny smiled at the thought of Bullet bearing the full force of Walker's rage. The ghost deserved it.

"I will let you know once I get anything of him," Walker said, following Danny as the half-ghost went to the door of his office. "I will locate you myself; until then, leave me here to deal out the punishment. I want no interruptions by your visit."

Danny nodded, then turned and went on his way. Walker followed making sure that he was out of the prison.

Then he smiled wickedly.

Walker passed his office and headed far into the depths of the enormous prison, where one lone door stood. Inside was Bullet, against a corner of the room. The purple ghost perked up when the warden walked in.

"So," he got to his feet, his eyes on the large man before him, "did he tell you where it was?"

"Nothing," Walker said. "Let the others know. We're going on with the plan."

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"Look, Foley, you can't expect us to believe that he dropped you off at his house and then took off. His car is right across the street." Dash was holding Tucker angrily by the collar of his shirt. "Where. Is. He?"

"It's really not that hard to believe," Tucker was sweating now, ugly images in his mind of one of those fists being raised and slamming into his face. "Danny just—" at that point, his PDA started beeping.

Dash glanced down at the techno-geek's pocket, where the PDA lay out of sight. "What's that?"

"It's been ten minutes," Tucker replied blankly. "Excuse me, I gotta go. Bathroom break!" he cried as he ran for the basement.

"There's no bathroom down there!" Dash shouted after him. He blinked and turned to Kwan beside him. "Is there?" he asked uncertainly. Kwan shrugged.

Downstairs, Tucker punched in the numbers for the manual override to open the heavy doors to the ghost portal in a frenzied fashion. The Fentons' had added it in the case of not having another family member present to open the portal via the genetic lock with their thumbprint. 'I hope he's there,' Tucker thought. Dash was bound to come storming down the stairs any minute now demanding once again to know where Danny was, and he wasn't sure he would be able to distract the jocks long enough to open the portal whenever Danny was ready to come out other wise.

Fortunately, Danny was standing on the other side when the door opened. Tucker breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as another ghost shot through behind Danny before the doors were able to close in on it.

Danny's mouth opened as a waft of cold air escaped it, his ghost sense kicking in just as Tucker called out, "Danny!" frantically, pointing at the ghost flying just behind him.

"Foley, _what_ is going on?" Dash's annoyed tone drifted downstairs.

"No time," Danny whispered. "We have to take care of them first." He transformed into his superhero mode, turning intangible, and soared through the room, leaving Tucker staring open-mouthed at the new ghost in the room. Did his friend just abandon him here?

Danny, for his part, was anxiously thinking of how to control this. He floated right through the door, transforming himself into Danny Fenton once again before his feet touched the ground, and jabbed at the doorbell. There was a pause, and the front door opened with Dash peeking out, his mouth in a ridiculous 'o'.

"Fenton!" he exclaimed. "Where were you?"

"I … went to get a soda," Danny rushed in. "I think I hear Tuck in the basement. Gotta go, bye!" he slammed the door to the laboratory behind him.

Dash stood stunned, his brain still trying to catch up with the encounter.

"No wonder those two were never accepted," Kwan said.

Dash gave him a frustrated glance.

"Those two are up to something," he stated. "I'm going to find out what."

Kwan got to his feet, his eyes wide. He held out an arm to stop Dash. "I'll go," he offered. "I need to go to the bathroom too, while I'm there."

Dash gaped as Kwan hurried downstairs.

"There's no bathroom down there!" he said loudly to the now empty room. He paused, a finger to his chin. "Is there?"

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Tucker was glad when Danny retuned downstairs. The ghost was still flying around, and though it had not attacked yet, it was certainly creating a mess. As common as facing ghosts had become for Tucker in the past few years, he had never been in a situation wherein he was trapped in a small room with one flying around haphazardly as this one was now.

When Danny returned, his face took on the determined look he usually got when he was about to turn into a ghost, but Tucker gripped his hand to warn against it. "You can't," he said to Danny. "Dash could come down at any second!"

Danny nodded. Tucker was right. He'd have to face this one on his own. Fortunately, the lab was full of weaponry to be used against ghosts. Before he could reach for one, however, the door swung open and Kwan tore down the stairs.

"Are you okay?" he gazed hard at Danny.

"What are you doing here?" Danny frowned, reaching for one of the guns his father had created to fight the ghosts.

"I figured you were acting so strangely because of a ghost," Kwan reached for a gun as well, much to Danny and Tucker's shock.

"What do you think you're doing?" Danny asked, although he knew perfectly well.

"Helping you," Kwan said. Tucker grabbed Danny by the arm and pulled him down, Kwan following suit as they narrowly missed the ghost when it swooped down on them.

"What, you think just because you know who I am I'm going to let you get into this stuff?" Danny hissed heatedly. "This is way too dangerous for you!"

Kwan didn't answer at first, instead aiming the gun at the ghost, that was now circling the ceiling in a corner. He fired the shot, but the ghost plummeted downwards, missing it. Kwan turned back to Danny. "You let your friends help you," he pointed out. "I'm far more able than they are."

"Hey!" Tucker took offense to that.

"I'm more athletic, more agile," Kwan went on as if he hadn't heard the protest. "And I shot Ember when she had you trapped, in case you forgot."

Danny opened his mouth to say something, but closed it immediately. The truth was, he couldn't think of an argument. And this was not the time anyway.

Tucker sulked on the floor as Danny and Kwan jumped to their feet, cocking their guns to the angle the ghost was currently hovering at, and simultaneously both boys fired. The ghost made to float away, but wasn't quick enough as both shots hit home. It shrieked in pain, falling from the air.

"The thermos, quick!" Danny's eyes were still trained on the falling figure. Tucker gave it to him, a disgruntled look still on his face, but Danny took no notice. Uncapping it, he aimed the light to the ghost. When it was finally inside, Danny sealed the thermos, and opening the portal again, released the ghost back through the Ghost Zone.

Kwan placed the gun back on the desk, which had several items strewn on its surface and on the floor thanks to the ghost. Danny wiped the sweat off his brow, and placed his gun on the table as well.

The door opened again and Dash peered through. "What was all that screaming?"

Before either boys could give an excuse, Tucker piped up, "Kwan caught Danny jerking off in the bathroom," with a bitter look still on his face.

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After having convinced Dash that it wasn't true, thanks to Kwan's help, Danny shut the door behind the two jocks when they left that night and sank down on the couch with Tucker next to him.

"So what did Walker say?" Tucker asked. He was dying to hear some insight on this mystery, but had not been able to ask all day what with Kwan and Dash around.

"Nothing," Danny shook his head. "Bullet hasn't given him any information."

"Wow." Tucker was disappointed. "So it was a waste, huh?"

"Basically," Danny shrugged tiredly. His eyes felt heavy. "He has Bullet in solitary confinement so that he can work on him; he hasn't broken yet. I don't know how long it's going to take. Walker said he'll come find me when he gets something."

"Too bad," Tucker sighed. He picked up the remote control and clicked the television on.

"Yeah," Danny leaned back in the seat.

The two friends sat there comfortably, and Danny was more glad than he had ever been to have a friend like Tucker by his side.

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Author's Note: Not my best chapter, I know, but it's helped drive the story along. Thanks, everyone, for reviewing the chapters.

black lady knight: Thanks for your suggestion. I did actually crank out a story in the _Xiaolin Showdown _fandom in the time between posting the previous chapter and writing this one. It's not the fact that I don't know where to go from here, because I've already got the entire plot planned out for all parts of this series, it's just that things are going to be a little slow for a while until Danny figures out a crucial part in the mystery coming soon. :)

Hope to hear from more of you! Keep those reviews coming.


	12. Sweet, Sweet Agony

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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Kwan was growing very tired of those odd looks Dash had been giving him throughout the week. Ever since the incident over at FentonWorks, the jock had caught his friend eyeing him strangely at various times.

"You know, Danny and I already explained to you that Tucker was joking," he said after catching Dash at it once again.

"So you're on a first-name basis with them now?" Dash raised an eyebrow in response. Kwan just sighed and continued to pretend reading his textbook while the teacher droned on in front.

"What is with you?" he asked again during lunch. The two of them were at the popular table reserved for athletes, cheerleaders, and really cool people; currently they were the only ones there, with the rest of their friends still picking what they wanted. He himself hadn't selected anything.

"Nothing's with me," Dash said defensively. There was silence between them for a moment, before the blonde said, "What's up with you and Fenton, anyway?"

"Oh, not this again." Kwan raised a hand to his forehead. "I told you, Tucker was joking."

"Yeah, I know _that_," Dash rolled his eyes. "But since you've come around to their place, the two of you have gotten really … chummy."

"Chummy?" Kwan raised his eyebrows.

"There's no bathroom in the basement," Dash said.

Now it was Kwan's turn to roll his eyes. "Well, I didn't know that, did I? Tucker was the one who said Danny had gone to the bathroom when you asked why he wasn't in the basement. I thought there was one."

"Yeah, well, that's another thing, what's with the first-name thing?" Dash questioned, digging into his meatloaf with his spork.

"You're Danny's support mentor, and you don't refer to him by the first name?" Kwan shrugged. "I figured, we're over at his place every day these days, it'd be strange not to call him and his friends by their first names now." Dash looked back up from his food, and Kwan asked, "What's _up_ with you?"

"You've just been acting really weird, that's all," Dash said. "I haven't seen you eating, you never want to hang out after we get out of Fenton's place …"

"I've been busy," Kwan said enigmatically.

"Yeah, which brings me to my next point," Dash stabbed at his food again violently. "Why are you bailing on the road trip? We've been planning this for, like, a year!"

"I told you I'd probably be going," Kwan muttered. "I just have something to do."

"So I've heard," Dash sounded almost offended. "What I haven't heard is what it is."

Kwan didn't reply. Dash watched him closely as he tapped a finger on his other wrist, head turned away too look at the grass. Finally, he turned back up and said, "I think you should invite Fenton to Paulina's party."

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"Absolutely not," Sam said adamantly. "I will not help you spy on Kwan."

"Oh, come on, Sam," Danny was practically begging. The three of them were once again in the school cafeteria. Since the night they had resolved their feelings for each other and what to do with them, Danny and Sam had come to an uneasy, unspoken settlement. They were trying to carry on as friends, but were both painfully aware of what had happened between them, highlighted by the fact that Danny spent more and more time around Tucker and Sam's new unwillingness to go outside for lunch. Truth be told, it didn't feel like much progress, if any, had been made at all, as far as Danny was concerned, but he was trying to include Sam again, but she certainly wasn't making it easy on him.

"We used to do stuff like this all the time," Danny persisted. He was glad to be inside today; he didn't want to risk Kwan finding out that they were talking about him behind his back. Going outside was too risky, so Danny and Tucker had stayed indoors and found Sam at her regular table.

"Yeah, but that was when you actually had suspicions for valid reasons," Sam said. "This time, you're suggesting we stake out a musclebound airhead who's too stupid to take a breather while exercising."

Danny sighed, knowing he wasn't going to convince her. "Tuck?" he turned to his other friend.

"I'll go if Sam goes," he maintained without taking his eyes off his meatloaf.

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By the time lunch was over and the students trudged back for classes, both Danny and Dash were cursing their respective friends.

"I can't believe you guys don't trust me enough to follow me," Danny said. "I mean, when I have led you guys astray before?"

Sam and Tucker stopped walking and turned to him expectantly. Danny gave in. "Okay, okay, so I haven't gotten them all right," he grumbled. "You can't expect a perfect score. But when have I led you guys astray _lately_?"

Again, Sam and Tucker flashed him expectant looks.

"Don't make me bring up the baklava incident," Sam drawled.

Danny shuddered at the memory of _that_ disaster.

"Fine," he said. "But I'm right. Even if you guys don't believe me, you'll see."

"I'm sure we will," Tucker said.

It was only then that they noticed that they were the only ones left standing in the hallway. Sam swore; there weren't even any stragglers around. How late were they?

"I've got to go get my book from my locker," Danny told them.

"Now?" Sam exclaimed. "We're late enough as it is."

"Well, I've got my book," Tucker smiled. "And I'm headed that-a-way." He waved as he went on in the opposite direction from the other two, going to his Geography class while they had Literature.

Tucker didn't walk three steps before the atmosphere turned darker though, and Danny looked around, knowing through experience that a change such as this could mean that a ghost was in the area. As if on cue, a specter turned the corner and went straight for them.

Danny, in his haste, fell back to his old habit of crying out, "Going ghost!" as the two white rings formed around his waist and slid to reveal Danny Phantom.

"It's …" Sam trailed off when she saw the form of the ghost, "…a bee?"

"Oh, I know that form," Danny wasn't fooled for a minute. The giant wasp shot towards him, but the half-ghost was ready, jumping up a few inches and with his outstretched hand, gripped one of the buzzing wings in a way that would have surely crushed it, had it not been made of ectoplasmic energy. With a pull, he managed to slip on to the insect's abdomen for a ride. Once secure, Danny slammed his hand, in open-ended palm, down on to the bee's head, and directed a powerful blast.

The bee wailed in pain at the sudden surge of energy straight to its head, and tumbled. Danny jumped up, waiting in the air for it to crash against the wall.

The impact of the wall caused the ghost to lose its form and revert back to the human one it relied on most: Bertrand, the shapeshifter.

"So, where's Spectra?" Danny asked. "Don't tell me she forgot to tie on your leash."

"Leash, you say?" came the reply in that snooty, uppercrust voice that Danny so hated. "You really are full of ideas, Daniel."

The three students watched as green energy surrounded the short grey-haired man again as he took the form of a large beast.

"Go," Danny instructed, giving Sam and Tucker who were to his left a quick glance. "I'll handle this."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked uncertainly.

"Just make sure Spectra doesn't get you," Danny warned, his focus already back on Bertrand.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Bertrand said. "She and I have parted way. Irreconcilable differences, you know."

"She dumped you, huh, Tiny Tim?" Danny smirked.

"Tiny Tim was never really made fun of for his size," Bertrand said to him. "And she always found me the perfect height."

Danny's cocky grin immediately turned into a disgusted grimace. "Okay, I really didn't need to know that," he said. He noticed Sam and Tucker were still watching entranced by the bickering. "Go!"

They rushed beyond the row of lockers behind him and turned the corner. Danny powered up his hand again and flew to the large dog resolutely. "Would you get out of here?" he heard Sam snap, but paid no mind. She must have been getting a student out of harm's way.

Bertrand was quick. With a sidestep, he managed to dodge the oncoming threat, but Danny easily phased himself through the wall and returned, eyes narrowed, and reached for the ghost again. This time, he didn't bother to power up, instead landing a punch and a kick to the dog's snout and neck.

Bertrand stumbled back, letting out a whine, turning his head, followed by a growl, preparing to attack.

"I'd kill you where you stand," he said, his voice now lower than Danny had ever heard it, "but I'm feeling merciful."

"No, you're not," Danny tossed his words aside. "You need me to tell you where Plasmius's ghost half is."

"So you know then," Bertrand's tone rose, but still remained lower than his regular speaking voice. "Of course, I wouldn't be the first one to ask for it. Spectra was the one who slowed me down. She thinks it would work in her favor, you see. She was always stupid that way."

This caught Danny off-guard. "What?" he asked, completely perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

Bertrand had already charged though, and Danny realized too late that he should have turned intangible. Too late, however, for Bertrand had him pinned down.

Danny felt the air leave him as the giant paw applied more pressure on his stomach. He felt as though he were being squeezed to death. He winced; his head hurt.

Finally, he got the sense to turn intangible, and the paw slipped harmlessly through his body, Bertrand now intangible as well. Danny forced himself down to sink through the floor and returned back up behind his adversary.

"Tell me what's going on," he demanded, both hands curled into fists now. "Why do you want the soul? What did you mean about Spectra?"

"You think I would ever tell you anything?" Bertrand reverted back into his human form, his green eyes glowing. He struck a defensive pose. "Glory will be mine, Danny Phantom. If not, another will take my place, and another after that. Thousands shall come after you."

"So I've heard," Danny frowned. Neither moved. "Why is everyone in the Ghost Zone so interested in the Plasmius spirit?"

"If no one has told you anything," Bertrand breathed, "I will not. You are the enemy of almost every being there. Our affairs are none of your concern."

"They are if you guys are going to keep coming after me," Danny countered. "There's no way you're going to win against me, Bertrand. I've kicked your butt a million times before, yours, and everyone else's. Once I send you back into the Ghost Zone, you can tell them that, and maybe then we'll get somewhere with this situation."

Bertrand gave no answer, instead charged at him. Danny dived down underneath him, grabbing him by his pudgy stomach and throwing him against the row of lockers that lined the walls behind. He realized then that he had no thermos with him, no way to trap the ghost.

"Tucker!" he hollered. "Tucker!"

There was no reply. Danny looked to Bertrand, unmoving, and drifted off trying to find the black boy and finish this off. A few minutes later, however, he still had not located him. There was a classroom right next to him, so Danny peeked in through the glass pane, eager to avoid drawing attention to himself. Kwan was sitting right next to the door, all attention on the textbook in front of him; Dash sat next to him, jotting something down. He saw Paulina somewhere off in the middle of the class, drawing long appreciative gazes from the boys neighboring her. But Tucker was nowhere around.

He started to move on, but was caught unawares by Bertrand, who had sneaked up behind him and tossed an energy ball. Danny let out a startled cry at the sudden pain, and grit his teeth to avoid making more noise and catching the attention of the students.

He turned around to face the ghost, and shot a blast of power at him, which missed. His back burned from the shot, and it seemed that he was thinking too much about that and not the fight, for not only had his shot missed, but Bertrand managed to crack his jaw with a good punch.

Danny flew back, hands to his face over the area, which was now starting to bruise. He had to keep searching, so, turning intangible, he floated quickly in the opposite direction, checking each classroom. He heard Bertrand's hostile laughter following him.

"Don't tell me I've beaten the great Danny Phantom!" he cried, keeping up with the white-haired teen. "I haven't even broken a sweat!"

Danny ignored him, knowing that he couldn't risk a brawl with the students in class now. He continued to search for Tucker, avoiding Bertrand as much as possible. Finally, he had located his friend, and rushed inside the classroom to stand next to him. He prayed the other ghost had not seen him enter, because he couldn't predict what Bertrand would do with a room full of unsuspecting children.

"Tucker!" he hissed. "Tucker!"

Tucker looked up, a startled look on his face, gripping the edges of his table hard. His eyes darted wildly side to side.

"Don't say anything," Danny told him. "I need the thermos."

Tucker's uncertain face told him that he didn't know how to pass it without arousing people's suspicions, but Danny had to believe that they wouldn't notice. After all, they hadn't heard him whispering to Tucker, had they? No one had looked up from their notes or away from the teacher striding in the front. He had to risk it.

Tucker inconspicuously reached down to his bag, where the Fenton Thermos was kept by the side. He pulled it out and discreetly changed hands so that it was closer to Danny. Danny willed his hand to turn solid again, and took the flask. Turning fully intangible again, Danny gave the class a quick once-over to make sure no one had seen the exchange. It didn't seem like it had caught too much attention, so he exited the classroom again, and searched the hallways for Bertrand.

The ghost was nowhere to be seen, so Danny explored the school searching for him.

'Don't let him have captured a class,' he begged silently.

A scream of terror sounded, and Danny knew his prayer had gone unanswered. He hurried to the source of the sound, and felt all the air escape him again when he passed a room and saw the several students cowering in one corner, few others standing, and the rest sitting down as though frozen. All of them had expressions of fright on their faces. Mr. Lancer was pushed against the wall, and even from where he floated Danny could see that he was shaking in fear. A breath of cold air escaped his mouth. He continued staring at the class, and what his saw next almost made his heart stopped.

Sam was in there.

Sam was standing by her desk, a mixture of resolve and panic on her face.

Danny squared his shoulders, his grip on the thermos tightening and he phased through the door to enter the classroom.

Bertrand was laughing. He was laughing, and throwing energy balls at random points through the class, keeping the children locked in their fear.

"Oh, if she could see this now," Danny heard him say. "What a feast she would have."

The teenage ghost formed again, drawing gasps and shouts from the crowd below.

Bertrand took notice of him and smirked evilly. "Oh look, your hero is here. Did I tell you that I met him in the hallway and he ran away? Like a little mouse, scared of every movement it sees.

"Well, how do you like _this_ movement, Danny Phantom?" he concluded, forming another ball of ectoplasmic energy and hurling it his way. Danny didn't dare turn intangible for fear of the blast hitting the students, so he focused his energy into creating his own energy ball, slightly bigger, and tossing it towards the one Bertrand had thrown. They met midway and clashed, causing a minor explosion in the air.

Several students screamed, a few ducking to avoid the blazes.

"I left to get this," Danny informed, holding up the Fenton Thermos. "It's time for you to go, Bertrand."

"No," Bertrand shook his head. "No, I don't think I will."

Danny began to uncap the thermos, and it seemed that his opponent had a change of heart.

"Fine," Bertrand said. "You may try. But before that, I think you should all know a little something about your savior here."

Danny's head snapped up.

Bertrand flew away, out of his reach. The eyes of the humans followed him. "I merely came here to get something from Danny Phantom, but he refused to give it to me. That's why I decided to attack. That's why every other ghost that comes after he locks me up shall attack. Because he won't give us the one object we ask for. He instead decides to place your lives at risk instead." To emphasize his point, he formed another energy boll and chucked it. Danny's eyes widened, realizing it was going to hit Lancer, and hastily formed his own. It wasn't well-done as the previous one, nor as big as it, but Danny merely needed to detract Bertrand's weapon from its current course.

It was successful, and caused the other ghost's ectoplasmic ball to hit the wall at the last second. Had Lancer any hair, Danny was sure it would have been singed off.

"He'll always place your lives at risk," Bertrand snarled.

"That's enough!" Danny raised the Fenton Thermos, and uncapped it. The energy sucked the ghost in, changing his form as he was pulled in. Once Bertrand was gone, Danny placed the cap back. He didn't want to, but his eyes involuntarily surveyed the students. Most of them were staring up at him in shock. Some of them, he saw with a pang in his heart, had taken to Bertrand's words; he saw one of two students looking at him in fear and loathing, the way the town had looked at him before he won them over by beating Pariah Dark.

Danny thought he was going to cry. Why did these things keep happening to _him_?

Rather than be embarrassed, he turned and flew out of the room before a tear could slide down his cheek.

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His parents were home when Danny entered his room through the window. He had turned his car intangible and flew home with it, the car not weighing a pound when its mass had disappeared. He didn't want to risk being caught driving home as Danny Fenton, so in order to avoid everyone for the day had left undetected.

Unfortunately, his parents had seen the car parked across the street just as they had been about to step out, so had come back in and knocked on his door.

"Danny, are you in there?" his mother sounded concerned.

Danny contemplated not answering her, but with a sigh said, "Yes, mom."

"We heard about the ghost attack in your school, sport," Jack said. "Is that why you're home so early?"

Danny had planned on faking being sick, but this, he supposed, was as good a reason as any to give. "Yeah, dad," he replied through the door.

"Well, don't worry," his father said. "We heard the kids got to go home if they wanted. This ghost was malicious, according to your principal. Attacked a classroom and everything."

"I know, dad," Danny said, settling down on his bed.

"We're going to your school right now, sweetie," Maddie told him. "To investigate. We'll be back tonight after work."

"Okay." Danny really didn't feel like talking.

Mercifully, they left, and within moments he heard the front door slam shut.

Danny slid his head down to his elbows, fingers clutching his hair and rocked back and forth a little in despair. He no longer felt like crying, but the stress Bertrand had just put him through made him feel sick. He leapt off the bed and without thinking hit the wall across his bed with the side of his fist. A dry sob escaped him unintentionally, his face scrunched up with the pain of an ache inside of him, and he pounded the wall again, softer, softer.

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It was hours later when Dash came over and knocked on the front door of the Fenton residence. He waited for a moment, and the door swung open, revealing Danny.

Dash paused, momentarily taken aback by how bad the boy looked. His hair was a mess – well, messier than usual – his eyes were half-lidded and red, and there were bags under his eyes.

"You look terrible," he blurted.

"You woke me up," Danny replied dully, holding the door open for him. "Where's Kwan?"

"Parking the car," Dash turned to stare at his friend reversing and driving forward messily. "He's awful today. I asked him to drive over because I was too tired after practice, and I thought we were going to crash into a lamppost."

He shrugged. "I guess he's tired too."

Danny didn't say anything, just stepped aside and let Dash enter.

Dash hesitated when he looked at the shorter boy again. He hadn't planned on taking Kwan up on his suggestion of asking Danny to the party, but with the way he looked now, it didn't seem too bad an idea. He hated the thought of having Fenton over at one of his group's parties, but the boy looked as though he could use a fun night. He also looked as though it would be a good idea for Dash to keep an eye on him this weekend.

"Look, Fenton," Dash's brain told him that his voice was too harsh, so he tried to speak in a more tender tone, "there's a party this Saturday. At Paulina's." He hesitated again. "You should come."

Danny raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You're inviting _me_?"

"Yeah, so what if I am?" Dash couldn't keep the defensiveness out of his voice.

Danny looked instantly more cheerful. An invitation to one of the popular kids parties tended to have that effect on people, Dash smirked.

"Come," Dash sighed, mostly to let Danny know exactly what a burden this was for him. "You look like you could use it."

"Sure," Danny practically chirped. Dash glared.

"Don't get any ideas though."

"Oh, yeah, of course not," Danny raised his hands in surrender.

Kwan came up to them at that moment, so neither said anything else. He gave the keys back to Dash.

"I put the top up," he announced.

Dash frowned in confusion. "Why'd you bother?"

"I didn't want the interior to get wet," Kwan said in an almost nonchalant tone.

Danny and Dash gawked at him and hurried to peek outside, the door still ajar. The fire hydrant on the sidewalk had been hit, and was currently giving Dash's car a bath.

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Author's Note: Anyone know what's going on with the Stats section? My e-mail notification says that I got 3 reviews for the previous chapter, but the Stats section says there have only been 2. I'd appreciate any clarification.


	13. Dancing On The Shards

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy

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With a grunt, Danny's fist flew, ectoplasmic energy surrounding the knuckles, and it was good. The ghost was struck back, head lurching further back to crack on cement.

Only a few seconds later, the threat was gone, sealed within the Fenton Thermos. Sam and Tucker ventured out from their hiding places behind the racks of clothing.

"You know, we can defend ourselves from ghosts," Sam brushed off her clothes, mentally shuddering at the fact that she had been forced to duck between the frilly pink clothes during the attack. "We don't have to hide."

"Yeah, we may not be as 'agile' as Kwan, but I think we do alright, don't you?" Surprisingly, Tucker sounded more indignant than Sam.

"I'm not going to take any risk with you guys if I can help it," Danny told them, morphing back into his regular teenage self again. "You don't have any weapons on you, and without them, you're screwed. Punches aren't always going to work with these guys."

"Well, it's not like we could have them around us," Sam said. "Anything other than the thermos, and we'd probably be arrested."

"Which is why I'm not taking any sort of risk with you guys," Danny smiled. "My weapons are built in."

At his friends sulky expressions, he wrapped his arms around their shoulders and said congenially, "Come on, guys. You know how important you are to me. I'll always be around to protect you." _Until you leave town that is_, he added silently. He quickly drew back. "But what's even more important right now is finding me something to wear."

The mood returned to normal between the three of them, and Sam scornfully said, "I can't believe you're making such a big deal over a pity invite."

"A pity invite is still an invite," Danny shook his head, turning his attention back to the shirt he was holding.

Tucker looked around the deserted store. "Well, at least there's no crowd to work around," he noted.

"And even better than that," Danny said, bending down to grab a shirt from the floor, then raising it high to inspect it, "I think I've found what I want to wear."

"Oh, good," Sam said, giving the rack of pink clothes one last dose of the evil eye. "Can we go then?"

"But there's no one here for us to pay," Danny said.

Sam gave him a cynical look. Marching up to the cashier's counter, she snatched the shirt away from Danny and cut off the tags with the pair of scissors used by the store's employees.

"Sam!" Danny protested, shocked.

"Oh, calm down, Danny," Sam said. "I'm not going to steal it." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a wallet, tossing thirty dollars down.

"Well, still …"

"No one's going to come back for hours," Sam told them. "Those security cameras are destroyed, and we paid for the outfit. They can't expect us to stay until they decide its safe to work again, can they?"

"She's got a point there," Tucker agreed. "The party's tonight. You'd have just wasted your time if you don't get the shirt now."

"I guess so," Danny conceded. He followed Sam through the door, Tucker behind them.

There were a few people milling around outside, but it seemed that many shoppers had seen or heard of the commotion going on inside the clothes store, because the mall seemed to be significantly emptier now than when they had entered a half hour ago.

"So I say we go get some ice cream," Tucker turned to the two of them, "because I'm dying for a banana split right now."

Danny licked his lips. "That sounds great." He turned to the girl next to him. "Sam?"

She shrugged. "Sure. I haven't had one in years."

Tucker paused. "Um, come to think of it, neither have I. Anyone remember how to get to the ice cream shop?"

Danny chewed on his lip. He didn't realize how long it had been since they had been to the ice cream parlor; usually the three of them – along with every other teenager from the high school – spent their time at the Nasty Burger. It was the social place for them, while kids and their parents were the typical patrons for the ice cream shop in the mall.

Before they had come to any conclusions, however, Danny heard someone call, "Danny!" and turned around to see Kwan walking over to them.

Sam let out an irritated sort of sound, a deep frown etched on her face as if advertising to the jock what an imposition his presence was.

"Hey, Kwan," Danny greeted warmly, giving Sam a quick nudge with his foot.

"So," Kwan surveyed the shirt that Danny was holding crumpled in his hand, "you're getting ready for the big party huh?"

"Yeah," Danny grinned, before composing himself again. "I mean, yeah," he shrugged. "'Sno big deal."

A smile split up Sam's previously impassive face and Danny blushed at the thought that she was laughing at him.

Tucker, more used to Kwan's added presence around his friend, simply asked, "Do you remember where that ice cream shop is? The one with all those weird names for the flavors?"

Kwan stared at him, but didn't seem to know what Tucker was talking about.

Danny opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a woman's scream.

"Hey kid!" he heard a man some distance away yell, "look out behind you!"

All four teenagers turned around in alarm. Danny's jaw dropped when he saw yet another ghost zooming around the mall. The area around them instantly cleared, terrified shoppers looking for cover.

"I'm going—" Danny stopped short when he caught sight of Kwan again. Sam and Tucker were eyeing the jock warily too. Kwan blinked.

"You know I know about you," he said.

Sam narrowed her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. If they didn't have more important things to focus on, Danny was sure that she would have made some sort of scathing remark.

"Look, there's no time," he said. Kwan already knew that he was Danny Phantom; changing in front of him – while feeling like a horrible violation – wasn't going to change that. He raised his arms up above his head, and transformed into the white haired ghost fighter.

This looked like a low-level threat, so Danny wasn't too intimidated; and a good thing it was too, for the battle he had had not ten minutes ago wore him out. Usually, he had more stamina, but it was mostly from the adrenaline of a fight that allowed him to take on multiple enemies at once. Not having expected to go into battle mode so soon, however, had caused him to lower his guard. And then there was the fact that Kwan was watching him in action, which in itself was enough to offset him.

The ghost, catching sight of the infamous Danny Phantom, went for him. Watching with half-lidded eyes, Danny merely shifted his position to the left at the last second. The ghost, not having enough time to change direction, splattered itself on a support column. When it peeled itself off, it left a green stain on the pillar.

"Gross," Tucker cringed.

"Oh, good," Danny catcalled. "The Box Ghost doesn't even try anymore; I could use a new bulls-eye. How about we try a little target practice?" He pulled his hand back, a wave of ectoplasmic energy forming around his hand, and swinging it forward, shot out at the ghost.

It let out a yelp, getting knocked back, but this time managed to avoid the column.

"Tucker—" Danny started, but his friend was ahead of him, pulling out the Fenton Thermos and tossing it up into the air where he caught it with his gloved hand.

Unbeknownst to the four teenagers, a figure stood off in the distance watching the proceedings. Skulker had seen the ghost boy work before, but now stood with a new sense of purpose.

"I'm sending you the file now," he said in his low voice, not taking his eyes off the fight. "The ghost child has just captured the bait."

"Excellent," Walker replied through the communicator. "I'll have Nicolai extract it from these infernal contraptions he built. Get back here as soon as you can."

Pressing the button Technus had showed him to end the exchange, Walker tossed aside the communicator and waited. Technology. Ha. Give him a torture chamber any day.

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That evening, Danny changed into the new shirt he had bought at the mall and modeled it for Tucker and Sam who were waiting in his bedroom. They looked unimpressed.

"What do you think?" he asked, flashing them a charming smile. The dark blue shirt he was wearing was unbuttoned so that it exposed more of his chest than he was used to, and there were fewer buttons on it than was regular, the last one ending a little higher than normal, the result showing a bit of his stomach. There was also a rip in the back. With it, he wore a snug pair of dark jeans, the cut of which suited him well, and looked like the stylish kind he had seen some students wearing before.

"It tries too hard," Sam said immediately.

"I'm sure it does, Sam," Danny tilted his head to Tucker.

The other boy shrugged. "It's nice."

Sam snorted.

"You could still hang out with us tonight," Sam offered.

It was tempting; the three of them hadn't hung out very much the past year, and since _that_ night, they hadn't really hung out together at all, not including lunchtime when Danny would clue them in on what was going on with Kwan, or any other aspect of his ghosthunting life.

"Thanks, but … the party's going to start soon," Danny declined. 'Hey,' he comforted himself, 'if Sam gets to ditch the group every once in a while, I should too.'

"Speaking of which, how are you going to get there?" Tucker asked. "Paulina'd probably laugh you out of her house if you came in your car."

Danny shrugged. "I didn't really think about it. Dash said I was his guest, I—"

"You know how those people like to string others along, Danny," Sam reminded. "Has Dash spoken to you at all since he invited you?"

"Of course he has," Danny said. "Just … not about transport. I mean, Kwan did a number on his car, it's not like he could offer to take me. Besides, he's made it clear that even though he's inviting me, he still doesn't really want anything to do with me."

Just as the words left his mouth, his cellphone started buzzing on the table. Danny snatched it up and answered the call. "Hello?"

"Fenton, I'll be at your place in like ten minutes," he heard Dash say on the other end of the line. "Be ready."

"You mean your car's okay?" Danny asked in surprise.

"Can you believe it? Hardly a scratch on it," Dash said. "Now, get ready before I get there. I hate to be kept waiting."

Without saying goodbye, the blond hung up.

Danny flipped the phone shut and placed it deep into his pocket. "Dash is on his way here," he informed them. "Guys, could you—"

"We know," Tucker smiled reassuringly. "We'll be on ghost patrol while you're gone."

"Thanks," Danny said in relief. "Now, look, if you need me, call. I'll just ditch."

"It's okay, Danny," Sam said, and Danny could hear the warmth in her voice. "Enjoy yourself. We can handle anything the Ghost Zone can throw at us."

Danny returned her half-smile and nodded in appreciation. He wanted to say something else, but there was no time, as they heard Dash's car honk outside.

"Come on," he said. "Walk me out."

Dash's eyebrows raised when he caught sight of them walking over to his car. Danny thought it might have been because of his outfit, which, with every passing second, he was starting to regret. It showed more skin that he felt comfortable with. What kind of a person wore this to a high school party anyway? But it could also be that Dash didn't expect to see him flanked by his friends.

"Nice shirt, Fenton," Dash smirked, and Danny blushed, not sure if that was a backhanded comment or not. "I was worried you'd show up in that outfit you always wear."

"At least Danny's got more originality than following whatever some magazine dictates is cool to wear for each day," Sam said hotly.

Dash's eyes flickered briefly to her. "I didn't know it was original to wear a white shirt all the time."

Sam didn't reply, but Danny thought it would be best to separate the two as soon as possible. Leaving Tucker to handle her, he slipped into the car's passenger seat. Dash gave Sam one last look of superiority before peeling away.

Watching them drive off, Tucker placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Aw, come on. He deserves a night off."

Sam gave a small nod. "I know."

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Danny sat back in the seat, wondering if he ought to say anything.

"So, you and Manson are friends again, huh?" Dash questioned.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Danny said. "Why?"

"No reason," Dash replied. "I guess a big part of the reason I invited you was because I knew the two of you were having problems. You know, I was concerned about what you might do. I know she's one of your only friends."

If Danny wasn't so used to Dash, he would have taken more offense to that. "Well, you're free to not invite me to anymore parties in the future," he said.

"I won't then," Dash snapped.

They sat in silence for few moments.

"Thank you. For inviting me," Danny said quietly.

"You're welcome," Dash replied stiffly.

"I don't really like this shirt," Danny fidgeted in his seat. "I don't know why I picked it out. I just thought it looked kind of cool in the store."

Dash glanced at him and grinned. "I kind of thought the goth geek picked it out."

Danny chuckled. "Sam probably would have, if she didn't hate it because I picked it out for a party from the popular crowd."

"It's okay, I guess," Dash shrugged. He let out a laugh. "You'll be competing with the girls for revealing the most skin though."

"If you didn't need that arm to drive, I'd hit you," Danny joked.

Dash snickered. "Fenton, please. You couldn't hit Elmer Fudd."

Paulina's house was in view. Dash guided the car to park across the street from her home, along with the rest of the flashy vehicles lining the street. The place screamed 'rich high school party'.

Cutting the ignition, Dash turned to Danny. "If you humiliate me, I'll kill you," he promised.

"Whatever you say," Danny said in an innocent voice. When Dash was out of earshot, he added under his breath, "Mein Fuhrer."

Catching up to Dash as they walked up to Paulina's mansion, Danny wrapped his arms around his body in a vain attempt to cover up. "Can I have your jacket?" he asked the jock.

Dash frowned. "Jeez, Fenton., you really are shy, aren't you? It's not _that_ much skin."

"Dash," Danny hissed, "if I _shrug_, you'd be able to see my _bellybutton_. _Give me your jacket_."

Dash rolled his eyes and paused to slide the letterman jacket he was wearing over his black button-down shirt off his shoulders, and handed it to Danny, who hid himself in it gratefully.

The first thing Danny saw when he entered the house was a large bookcase made of polished wood. Glass protected the thick volumes inside. "Wow," Danny whistled. "I didn't expect to see that in Paulina's house."

"My papa's medical collection," they heard a Hispanic voice with very apparent American influences as Paulina came up to greet them. She wrinkled her nose at Danny. "Why'd you bring _him_?"

Dash raised an eyebrow. "You mean Kwan didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what? Are you guys, like, dating or something?"

"No!" both boys shared looks of alarm. Danny was suddenly even more self-conscious of the newly-acquired jacket than of the shirt he was wearing underneath it.

"Hmm," Paulina didn't really seem to care. "Well, maybe Danny Phantom will show up now." Her eyes held a sparkle that Dash knew could never lead to a good outcome.

'Here's hoping he won't have to,' Danny said to himself. Although, admittedly, he would gladly wear the black and white jumpsuit instead of this shirt. His hand lowered down to the little bit of stomach exposed and covered it absent-mindedly.

Paulina had glided away to greet other guests, and Dash pulled him aside to avoid them blocking the door.

"I don't really know anyone here," Danny pulled the jacket tighter over his frame.

"You could hang around by the snack table all night," Dash suggested. Danny shot him a withering look.

"Fine. You can hang out with Kwan and me. But only because I'm just that good a support mentor," Dash gave in. "And because Kwan probably won't let me hear the end of it, and Paulina would kill me for letting you run around unchecked."

"You know, you can gripe all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you just offered to hang out all night with a loser," Danny smirked.

Dash scowled. "Shut it, Fenton."

They were there early; Danny theorized that Dash had been hoping to avoid too many people staring at the odd pair by coming before those who typically abided by the rule of arriving fashionably late. Kwan was one of the early ones, arriving behind a couple who had come in just after Danny and Dash, so the brunette was glad to have someone else to talk to.

"Why are you wearing Dash's jacket?" he asked in confusion when he sat down next to the two on the three-person couch.

Danny glumly pulled away one side to reveal the shirt he was wearing.

"He doesn't want to believe me when I told him it wasn't so bad," Dash sounded cross. "Can you believe how virginal he is?"

"It's not so bad, Danny," Kwan comforted. "Some of the football uniforms show a lot of skin."

"What?" Danny pulled himself up to stare at Kwan. "Since when?"

"Some of them are ripped. More breathing room with the heat," Dash said wearily. "Now stop acting like that jacket's a turtle shell."

"I can't help it if you're so huge," Danny said. "God, you could hide doves in here."

Kwan snorted.

"That wasn't even funny," Dash said.

"It wasn't meant to be," Danny sulked.

"Oh, come on," Dash had had enough of this. "You're finally at a popular kid's party, and you're moping because you don't like a shirt you picked out." He grabbed Danny's hands and pulled him off the couch, pushing the smaller boy up to a few of the kids lounging by the staircase. He ripped the sweater off Danny's form, and held him still while he protested and tried to cover up.

"Tell him he looks hot," he ordered the group.

One of them, Nathan, a poser still stuck in the too-cool-for-school phase Dash thought everyone ought to have grown out of by the time they finished sophomore year at most, raised the sunglasses he was wearing indoors – 'At night,' Dash mentally sneered – to survey Danny and then let out a wolf-whistle. The group dissolved into laughter. Danny's face heated up in pure mortification

Dash lowered his head an inch, fixing the group with a glare urging them to follow his instruction.

"Don't worry kid," one of the girls said. "It looks hot. You should keep that look."

"Yeah, it's way better than that white and red shirt," another guy chipped in.

Danny looked surprised and slightly flattered by this. "You know what I wear?"

"With Dash stuffing you in a locker every other day?" one of them laughed. "Hell yeah!"

Danny turned behind to look at Dash witheringly. Dash shook his head, as though trying to convince Danny that their claims of stuffing him into a locker so many times were filthy lies.

Slowly the guests trickled in, and the party started to pick up. Dash's plan to avoid stares didn't seem to have worked, for Danny noticed people shooting curious looks at him when they passed, no doubt wondering what he was doing at one of their shindigs. The amount of glances multiplied, of course, when they caught sight of Dash and Kwan, the most popular guys in Casper High, hanging around him all night.

Being seen at the party, and being seen around the other two boys especially, did wonders for Danny's reputation. Already it had soared high enough for one of the cheerleaders, Jennifer, whom he had always seen around but never really had an interest in came over to ask him to dance.

"Um, sure," Danny had blinked owlishly, clutching his cup filled with soda tightly. He turned to glance back at Dash and Kwan, both of whom were sitting down watching the party in a bored way that suggested they had been to these things too many times to care.

Jennifer led him out to the dance floor. "I didn't know you were so close to Dash and Kwan," she commented.

"I'm not really," Danny clarified. "I mean, I didn't really get to know them until a while back. Since then we've been getting closer … I guess."

"Well, you must be," Jennifer said, moving to the rhythm of the song playing. Danny tried to keep up with her. "I don't think Dash has ever invited anybody outside our circle to one of these before."

"Yeah," Danny huffed. "I guess not."

'I have really got to stop flying everywhere and use my legs every once in a while.'

After the song was over, they wandered over to the snack table, where Danny got some punch for the both of them.

"So, you wanna hang out at our table next week?" Jennifer asked over the rim of her cup.

"Really?" Danny's eyes widened.

Jennifer's heart-shaped lips formed a half-smile to the right. "Dash isn't the only one who can invite people in, you know."

Danny grinned, a little taken aback by the interest she was showing in him. "Sure," he finally accepted. Jennifer nodded, so he slunk back over to the couch where Dash and Kwan were sprawled. Kwan was twisting his foot around in circles and tapping it up and down in the air ever so often, seemingly in a warped sense of time to the beat of the music.

"She just invited me to lunch," Danny couldn't help the huge grin on his face.

"Who?" Kwan didn't take his eyes off his rotating foot.

"That girl, Jennifer," Danny said.

Dash scoffed. "Of course she did. They're leeches. All of them. Except for us," he slapped Kwan on the shoulder with the back of his hand in his gesture. "We're above latching on the suddenly-popular."

"I'm sure you are, Dash," Danny replied derisively. "You've always been known to be deep beyond your years."

"God, Fenton, who even talks that way?" Dash gave him a strange look. "You'll need to be around Jen for longer than a lunch date at the popular table just to speak like a normal person after everything Manson's put you through."

Kwan gave a carefree sigh. "Why do you guys always have to argue? You should save your strength."

"Save our strength for what?" Dash bit.

'Exercising?' Danny thought to himself viciously.

"I'm going to get another drink," Danny picked up his cup again. It was mostly an excuse to get away from Dash and the bad mood he was putting Danny into. Didn't he think that Danny knew that the invitation was only superficial? "Kwan, do you want anything?"

"No," Kwan said.

"Yes," Dash spoke up for him. "He hasn't been drinking anything. Look at how dry his lips are."

Danny took a close look and was surprised to find that Dash was right: Kwan's lips were chapped and peeling as though he hadn't had a drink in days.

Kwan closed his eyes, as though calming himself down before getting off the couch. "I'll get my own drink," he announced, walking off to the snack table. Danny followed him, hearing Paulina call Dash over to where she was on the other side of the room, where he was headed. Dash dragged himself to an upright position on the couch and marched past Danny.

"So, Dash certainly has a charming attitude," Danny muttered when he reached Kwan.

"He's annoyed tonight," Kwan didn't seem too bothered, dipping the ladle into the punch bowl and pouring it into his cup. Danny did the same, and followed the Asian boy until they were close to the large bookcase Danny had seen at the beginning of the party.

"Why?" Danny asked, trying to discreetly look at the blonde who was speaking to Paulina and some of her friends just a few feet away from where they stood.

"I don't know," Kwan admitted. "Maybe he's annoyed about bringing you here tonight. Or maybe he's annoyed that you're getting along well with the people here."

"You think I'm getting along with these guys?"

Kwan shrugged. "I suppose so. An invitation from a leech is still an invitation, isn't it?"

Danny gave a slight nod in agreement, and raised the cup to drink from it, but the liquid did not meet his lips, for with a rumble to the ground, it fell out of the rip and to the floor.

Danny stared, mystified as to why his punch had done such a thing. All chatter around him seemed to stop, and someone paused the CD player so that all was silent. He wasn't the only one who had felt that.

There it was again; several people screamed in surprise when the ground beneath them shook once more. Danny stumbled back a step, before the floor gave a truly violent lurch.

Various objects fell to the floor now; Danny could hear them breaking upon impact, but he didn't seem able to focus on it. Suddenly, it felt as if the world went mad. Terrified screams erupted all around him, and chaos came into play when the people in the room started running around for shelter, or some desperate way to protect themselves.

"Earthquake!" someone shrieked.

Hands jostled him about, knocking him back a step and then pushing him so that he stumbled forward two. Paulina was clutching the banister, looking more scared than Danny had ever seen her, and his heart went out to her. He wanted to help her, get her to safety.

'I've got to get everyone to safety,' he dimly thought. It felt as though the statement were bouncing around lightly in his head, but having no real impact on him. He felt impaired.

He caught sight of Kwan being forced back by the people struggling to push past his large frame in order to get to the door. But his attention was torn away when he heard something clattering. Something big.

Turning his eyes to the big bookshelf, he saw that it was teetering forwards and back against the wall due to the force of the shaking. Danny stood there, stupefied. There was a sudden slam, and it seemed that the shelf froze for less than one second in a slanted angle, before falling forward, directly in his path.

As he stood there, unable to move, he knew that this was it. He was going to be crushed here, under the heavy weight of wood paneling, glass, and dozens and dozens of thick, leatherbound books. In the back of his mind, common sense told him to move out of the way, turn intangible, do something to protect himself, but it wasn't very loud, nor very convincing. And so he stood there.

As the bookshelf fell forward, Danny imagined that he could hear that funny _whoosh_ing sound heavy objects made when they fell on characters in cartoons. He wasn't sure if that was possible in real life, but at least it was something to pretend.

He barely registered the feeling of fingers wrapping around his waist, or leaning back against a strong arm. What did catch his attention was that, with air caught in his throat, he was whisked away from harm's way, out of the direct path of the bookshelf and brought to the side, and forced to turn in to something warm and comfortable, his perspective changing so that he couldn't even see the bookcase anymore.

He felt the heavy piece of furniture crash into the ground, causing one last rumble, and all was still again. His head was still buried in that something warm and comfortable that he was still unable to identify because his brain seemed to have been left at the spot he was in before being so abruptly brought away.

"Jesus, Fenton," he heard someone familiar say in a breathy voice. "Jesus."

A hand buried itself in his hair at the back of his head, and another hand was at his back, on the skin exposed where his shirt ended and before his pants began. Both of them were rubbing small soothing circles into him.

He was being enveloped by Dash Baxter. Dash Baxter who had him burying his face into one broad shoulder and wrapping arms around his lithe frame. Danny was barely breathing. Since he had seen the bookcase tipping over towards him, he didn't really feel like he needed to take in more than shallow breaths every few seconds.

He raised his arms to wrap them around Dash's neck, causing his shirt to ride up and expose his navel, which was pressed up against Dash's, or somewhere in the surrounding region, exposing more skin for Dash to rub circles into.

"I'm going to take him home," Danny heard Dash say softly.

"Okay," Paulina sounded as though she were trying to whisper. No one was screaming now.

Danny felt himself being pried away from the jock's muscled body, and allowed himself to be turned around so that he was facing forward again. The first thing he saw was the bookcase. The glass was shattered, most of it underneath the wooden structure, and he saw hairline cracks running through the chocolate body.

He felt Dash's arm wrapped tightly and securely around his own scrawny one, and allowed himself to be led wherever he was being taken. Truth be told, he didn't think he had the presence of mind to stop it, although it was interesting to know that he had the presence of mind to acknowledge that he didn't have the presence of mind to stop Dash from leading him outside.

And lead him outside he did. Danny felt the cool night air breeze slap his face as the door to the mansion was pushed open. He half-stumbled, half-hobbled out the threshold and down the steps. Many of the kids who had been screaming in terror inside were now out, gazing up in awe at the sky or the area around them. Danny briefly wondered if they did it because they were so glad to be alive.

Dash wrapped his arm around Danny's body. "You're shaking," he said gently.

Danny hadn't noticed. Actually, he still didn't notice. He didn't feel like he was shaking. He didn't feel anything at all. All he could do was see what was in front of him.

He barely acknowledged Dash taking off the letterman jacket, which he had put back on sometime after Danny's dance with Jennifer it seemed, for the second time that night, and, with a bit of a struggle, wrapped it around Danny.

They finally reached Dash's car. The blonde athlete quickly opened the door for Danny and helped him through it so that he was seated safely inside before hastily closing the door. It was a good thing too, for as soon as Danny had lost the support of Dash's hand pushing him into the seat, he tipped over to the side, and was held up only by the closed car door. Dash got in at the driver's seat, and, giving his charge one last concerned look, started up the ignition.

They didn't talk the whole way home. Dash was torn between rushing back to the Fenton residence so that he could take a better look at what was wrong with Danny, and have the security of the adults around, versus driving at a slow and steady pace. He didn't think Danny could handle speeding very well right now. Dash could see that he was still shaking and pale, and he was leaning against the door of the car as though he were boneless.

He sent a silent thanks when they reached the Fenton residence within good time. He shut the car off and opened the locks, but Danny, it seemed, was not as helpless as he looked. As soon as the locks popped up, he pushed the door open and although almost collapsing on the road, managed to catch himself with his hand and dragged himself out and up into a standing position on trembling legs.

"Danny—" Dash made towards him, but Danny didn't wait to listen. Dragging his feet and looking for all the world as though he were learning to walk again, the smaller boy staggered into his house, gripping the doorway for support and not bothering to close the front door behind him.

Letting out a little _tsk_, Dash followed Danny in, deciding to keep a distance between them so that Danny could feel safe, although really he could have easily overtaken him if he wanted, the way he was lurching about like that.

Danny was making his way up the stairs, probably to his room. His breath was ragged, probably due to overexerting himself after the shock. Dash watched him go, his throat drying, wondering what he should do. He felt a pang in his heart, pitying the poor boy, but also scared beyond belief.

Before he knew it, Danny was already near the top. He tripped and Dash shot forward in alarm, but Danny didn't stop – nor did he right himself up again. He merely continued up the stairs in a crawl.

"Danny!" Dash found his voice again, after having opened and closed his mouth soundlessly for a few moments. He took two stairs at a time, and was facing the half-opened door to Danny's bedroom in no time. The brunette seemed to have made an effort to close this one, although a very feeble one; Dash decided it was probably out of habit, teenagers usually making it a point to close their bedroom doors more than any other.

The room was dark pitch dark, what with none of the lights turned on and it being later into the night. Dash couldn't see Danny anywhere, but then he heard the sound of a light switch being turned on. The room wasn't lit up, however. But the sound of a doorknob turning caught Dash's attention and he turned to see Danny in one corner of the room, turning the doorknob to a second room. The light switch seemed to have been for that room, because it bathed the bedroom in light as the door was flung open. Dash could see that it was a bathroom, which included a bathtub at the end. Danny went through the door, but before Dash could reach him, the door was pulled shut, and Dash heard the sound of a lock being pushed into place on the other side.

Danny's heart was thumping faster than he could even remember as he leaned against the door, trying to catch his breath. Blood rushed in his ears, and he heard a vague, dim voice in his head telling him that he couldn't remember much past this night anyway.

Still, his work was not done. He felt vulnerable and exposed. His hands reached up to shield his chest, crisscrossing each other as they reached for his shoulders, wrapping himself in his own embrace. It didn't help, and his arms felt heavy, so he let them drop to his sides and turned his head to focus his tired eyes on the bathtub in the corner.

He was already slumped down against the door, so he decided to crawl over to the bathtub. It hurt more, and took a longer time, but at least he didn't have to stand up. He heard Dash yell out his name outside, banging on the bathroom door.

"Danny!" he yelled again.

'He called me Danny,' the voice in his head, sounding a little bit more like him than it had a second before, slurred, as though drunk.

Danny clambered into the bathtub, feeling irrationally marginally safer, as though the porcelain was an extra layer sheltering him from harm. And so he lay there, pressing his back as far as he could to one corner of the tub, wrapping himself in his own hug again, and trying to calm himself down long enough to make sense of what had happened tonight.

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As Danny settled down in his own makeshift haven, Dash eventually gave up trying to appeal to the boy, or calling his name out desperately trying to get some sort of response. He had pleaded for Danny to open the door, but he wasn't all too sure that his calls were heard.

And so, not daring to leave the room, he turned around and pressed his back against the door to the bathroom, much like Danny was doing against the cold bathtub, pulling his knees up against his body, resolutely waiting for him until he decided it was safe to come out again.

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Author's Note: Wow, my longest chapter yet. Don't worry, slash is coming soon.

Keep those reviews coming:D


	14. Hold You A Little Bit Closer This Time

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy

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"So, Mister Fenton, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Danny raised his eyes to look up at Mr. Connor, but kept his head down. It was lunch period, Monday morning, and the only free time Danny had found to schedule an appointment with the guidance counselor. He had decided after the events that took place during Paulina's party that it would be best to talk to somebody and the man who had thrown him into the entire situation seemed like the best choice.

"I, um …" his voice sounded hoarse, so Danny stopped talking and gulped in effort to clear his throat. "I wanted to say that I think you were right," he admitted.

Peeking up again, he saw the look of clear surprise on Connor's face. "Right?"

"About me," Danny explained.

"In which way, Mister Fenton?" Connor intertwined his fingers together.

Danny didn't answer right away. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he tried to find the best way to go about it. "I didn't think it before, but I think you were right about me being depressed," his voice got gradually lower with every word he spoke.

Mr. Connor didn't reply, merely waited for Danny to continue on his own.

"Last weekend I went to a party with Dash Baxter," Danny said.

He stopped there, so Mr. Connor said to him, "I'm glad that the two of you are getting along so well."

Danny gave a humorless snort. "Yeah." He fell silent again, slowly twiddling his thumbs, keeping his focus on the movement.

"That earthquake thing happened while we were there," he informed.

"I had heard about it on the news, yes," Mr. Connor leaned back in his chair. "But the media doesn't seem to think it was an actual earthquake."

"No," Danny shook his head. "They think it was a ghost. They found slime and all.

"But when it happened, everyone at the party thought it was an earthquake. I was—" he broke off, seeming to collect his thoughts, "I was standing under this huge bookcase, and it started to fall. It would have crushed me."

Mr. Connor tilted his head a little bit, but said nothing. Danny looked up at him again, and the expression on his face told him that he was a little put off by this constant silence.

"I think I realized it then," he said quietly. "Or maybe after, I don't know. But when the shelf started to fall, I knew I should have run out of its way; no one was blocking me; but I didn't."

"You didn't?" Danny shook his head.

"I knew that if I didn't move, I was going to die. Everyone else was screaming and ducking for cover. And I just stood there … and I didn't care that I would die. In fact, I think I kind of welcomed it."

Mr. Connor blinked. "An interesting development," he said. "And now you think you might be harboring suicidal tendencies?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Danny hesitated. "I've never tried to kill myself. I've never wanted to." For the first time in his life, he wished that everybody knew about his alter-ego as Danny Phantom. It would have made everything so much more easier to explain. When everyday was filled with evading deadly shots and trying to save the town from destruction, surviving had only served to build Danny's confidence that he would never die from carelessness. How could he possibly explain to anyone that with death staring him at the face every day, he had grown to ignore it to the point where the thought of dying hardly even entered his mind anymore?

And then, when that bookcase had fallen, it wasn't an ectoplasmic blast he could swerve away from, nor a punch from a ghost he could duck and then hit back with. It had been circumstance, something bigger and more abstract than what he was used to, and it had felt as though he didn't need to fight it and could welcome death with open arms for once.

He couldn't really rationalize it. He could pinpoint several thoughts and feelings about the entire situation that made sense, but the more he tried to explain what had happened in those moments, the more knowledge he felt like he'd been losing. In the end, thinking about it too hard simply made everything more abstract and all the more frustrating because it felt like whatever strand he needed to grasp that would lead him to logic was eluding him and remaining just out of his reach.

Danny faced Mr. Connor again, who was watching him expectantly. "It's just that when it fell down, it didn't …" he tried to come up with words to describe what he was trying to say. "It almost felt like relief," he admitted.

Mr. Connor gave a slow nod.

"So, you would like to begin therapy sessions, is that it?" Mr. Connor asked, running a finger over his stubbled chin.

"I don't know," Danny slumped down. "No. No, I don't think so."

"Mister Fenton, to have these feelings run untreated—"

"I already have Dash Baxter around me all day," Danny interrupted. "Isn't that what he's here for, for me to talk to?"

"Well, yes," Mr. Connor agreed, "but the school assigned Mister Baxter to be your support mentor to help you through any hardship that we suspected you may have. Now that you acknowledge that you may actually be depressed—"

"Dash becomes useless?"

"Now that you acknowledge that you may actually be depressed, it may be more beneficial for you to see a professional," Mr. Connor finished with a glare. "The support system is not without its success stories, but at the end of the day it is still merely comprised of high school students, ones that lack proper training that a professional would have."

"It's all the same thing anyway," Danny argued. "Unless you're suggesting I get medicated to suppress these feelings that I _may_ have, there shouldn't be any difference between talking to a professional and talking to Dash."

Mr. Connor inhaled sharply, and to Danny it looked as if his round figure was ballooning up with indignation. "Obviously, Mister Fenton, it is up to you on how the situation should be treated," he said in a low voice. "If you do not wish to see a professional, there's nothing that I can do to change your mind."

Danny raised his hands and rested his head on them against the chair, a little smirk on his face.

"Incidentally, why is it that you came to me with this instead of Mister Baxter?" Mr. Connor leaned forward on his desk curiously.

Danny shrugged. "Just needed a way to organize what happened into words. I'll only be talking to Dash later, and I couldn't wait that long."

On that note, he got to his feet and walked out of the office, not sparing another glance to the dumbfounded counselor.

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Ignoring the invitation he had gotten from Jennifer during the party to join the popular group during lunch, Danny stayed indoors and sat down with Sam and Tucker, both of whom, he thought, looked dazed and morose.

"Hey," he greeted.

They looked up in surprise.

"Danny!" Sam exclaimed. "How was the, uh, party?"

"Okay," he said nonchalantly, stealing a look around the cafeteria to make sure no one was paying attention to them. Then he leaned closer to her, Tucker doing the same, and hissed, "What happened? It was all over the news this weekend that there was a huge ghost attack."

"There was," Tucker said guiltily.

"I told you guys to call me if there was any trouble!" Danny said.

"_No_," Sam said deliberately, "you said to call you if we needed any help. We didn't."

"What happened?" Danny brushed it off. He wanted a recount of exactly what had happened on Saturday night.

Tucker gave a little shake of his head. "We were out driving looking for any ghosts that might have been about, and," he gave a disgusted little shudder, "you remember that huge one you were fighting with the tentacles? The one that knocked you into a tree?"

"Yeah," Danny said slowly.

"Well, it got out again," Sam said. "And it was knocking everything around by slamming its tentacles to the ground. It took some slick drivin' to get around that," she looked proud of herself.

"Anyway," Tucker said dryly, "it was too big of a risk to suck in straight into the thermos, so we tried to weaken it with a fight – only it chose flight instead."

"So it headed to Paulina's street, while we tried to catch it," Sam told him.

The ghost slamming its way down the street must have been what caused those rumbles to grow in intensity, Danny realized.

"We shot at it with one of your dad's guns, but that just made it go crazy," Tucker continued. "Well, crazier. It started waving a tentacle around and slammed it against one of the walls of Paulina's house." Which, Danny knew, had caused the bookshelf to tip over.

"We wanted to check in on everyone, Danny," Sam said earnestly, "but after that scare, it ran off, and we decided it would be safer to catch it before it did anything worse. We figured you would be able to take care of yourself and everyone else inside."

'Yeah,' Danny thought to himself, chewing on his lower lip. 'That's what I figured too.'

"Well," he said, forcing his voice to sound cheerful, "everything was fine. No one got hurt."

Sam and Tucker sounded relieved by this.

"We tried to call you on Sunday," Tucker frowned. "But you didn't pick up your cellphone. Where were you?"

Danny blinked, trying his hardest to think up an excuse. "Oh, I was sleeping," he lied. It was the only thing that came to him. "Yeah, that party was a real rager."

Sam frowned in confusion. "What? You mean you guys kept on partying even after that ghost slammed into Paulina's house?"

Danny hesitated. "Yeah," he nodded. "We just, um, we moved to a different spot after that happened. Nothing gets in the way of these guys when they want to party."

"Typical," Sam muttered. "Just what I would expect from them. Actually, no, even I didn't expect them to be as shallow as _that_."

"Well, that's not true for one person at least," Tucker raised his eyebrows at Sam significantly. Sam blinked blankly at him for a second, then took on an expression that suggested that she was in a very bad mood. Danny turned his head from her to Tucker, perplexed.

"One of your new friends showed up while we were fighting the ghost," Tucker informed him.

"Who?" Worry welled up in Danny's chest.

"Kwan," Sam said vehemently.

"Kwan?" Danny was confused. It was only then that he remembered that they he and Dash had had basically no contact with anyone since the ghost slammed into Paulina's wall and threw him into disorientation. He couldn't even remember if they had passed by Kwan as Dash dragged him to the car.

"He just showed up and pulled out a gun and started shooting," Sam told him, raising her head to look at him.

Tucker seemed to decide that this was a good time to change the topic. "So where'd you go last night? We thought you'd show up any moment since Paulina's house was the one the ghost hit."

Danny looked down at his tray of food, still mostly untouched as he had only been playing with it with his spork while the two of them related what had happened on Saturday night. He didn't want to risk naming any place; what if the two of them had passed by it after capturing the ghost? They'd know he was lying, and with more prying, he couldn't guarantee that he would not spill his secret.

"Listen, I totally forgot – I made an appointment with Mister Connor during lunch period," he pushed his seat back and picked up his tray. "I should get going."

"Oh," they sounded surprised. "Okay. See you later."

He waved goodbye to them and dumped the untouched remains in the trash bin when he passed it.

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Having had nowhere to go after leaving Sam and Tucker, as he didn't dare show his face around the popular table, haunted by wonderings of what they must have thought of him after his freak out at the party, Danny had been forced to spend the rest of his lunch period in the library with an empty stomach. So he was in a sufficiently bad mood when the final bell rang that day and the students were released from classes.

What he saw as he crossed the school's tiny parking lot managed to erase all his mutinous thoughts though. Dash was leaning casually against the hood of his, Danny's, car with a pair of sunglasses on, clearly waiting for the brunette.

Danny made his way over to his car and the blonde jock. "Hey," Dash said in greeting, lowering his head enough for Danny to see those light blue eyes focus on him over the shades' rim.

"Hey," Danny said in a light tone, sliding the bookbag he had been carrying over one shoulder into the backseat of the car. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting a ride," Dash said, jumping over the door to land on the passenger's seat. "Kwan's held up for a while."

Danny chuckled at Dash's cocky assurance that he could simply get a ride without question, opening his own door and getting in. "Don't you guys have practice this week?" he asked.

"Cancelled," Dash said simply.

Danny started the ignition and pulled out of the lot. The drive was a quiet one, and he was grateful for it. It gave him time to think of what had happened after the party. He had been avoiding it, forcing himself to change his train of thought whenever the memories crept up on him, but now with Dash sitting right next to him, it felt next to impossible to fight it anymore, the assurance he had felt with the blonde boy watching over him that weekend, the absolute _gladness_ he had felt when he saw him waiting and having him by his side right now.

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_When he pushed the door open, the first thing that greeted Danny's sight was Dash pulling off his shirt. The boy's jeans were already pooled around his ankles on the floor, and as he tossed down his shirt as well, he was left in nothing but his blue boxer shorts._

"_What are you doing?" Danny asked. His voice sounded hoarse._

_Dash looked up at the sound of the other boy's voice._

"_I didn't want to sleep on the couch," he sighed. His voice was filled was exhaustion. Danny felt a twinge of guilt._

"_You stayed up the whole night?" he asked._

"_I wanted to be awake when you got out," Dash told him. There were bags under his eyes; the night had obviously taken a toll on him. "I wasn't sure how long you would take."_

_Danny wiped a hand across his forehead and cheek. "Yeah, well, it's probably best that you stayed out here." He made to move to the bed, and Dash did the same, pulling the covers out and, crawling in one side, pulled it over himself. His eyes were still half-open and focused on Danny, who hesitated. He didn't want to sleep in these clothes, but it felt a little weird to be sharing his bed with another man – much less Dash Baxter who had tried to make every day of the past few years a living hell for him – who was currently sleeping in his underwear._

_Deciding that he would rather be comfortable, Danny pulled off the shirt and the tight jeans, leaving him in his boxers as well, and crawled into bed next to Dash, who, upon taking note that Danny was in bed, closed his eyes and snuggled into the warm sheets._

_Danny couldn't stop a small smile from forming on his face at the sight of this adorable gesture. Sleep was beckoning him, and his eyelids felt heavy. His eyes glanced over Dash's impressive form, and as he pulled the blanket up to his chin, he moved slightly closer to the other boy, taking comfort in the body heat radiating off him._

_Dash peeked out at him, and wrapped one arm around Danny's slender waist, pulling him a bit closer. "I hug pillows," he said in a muffled voice, the kind, Danny supposed, a person would get when they were about to lapse into deep sleep and couldn't be bothered to form complete sentences. "There aren't extras here."_

_Danny gave a slight nod in understanding, though he wasn't sure if he was big enough for Dash to have seen it, as he was currently enveloped by a blanket and was snug against his own pillow. Closing his eyes, the last thing he felt was Dash's warm arm against his belly._

_He woke up hours later, feeling refreshed if slightly unsettled. Dash was in the middle of the room, still undressed except for his underwear, leaning down to inspect one of the objects that lay on his table. Danny inhaled sharply. "What time is it?" he asked._

"_Late," Dash said. "Almost midnight. We slept the whole day away."_

"_Oh, crap," Danny turned his head hastily to check the clock on the wall. It was true. "Great," he muttered. "Now my rhythm's going to be totally messed up."_

_His stomach growled, and he clutched it wincing. He hadn't had anything to eat since lunch with Tucker and Sam hours before the party. "Your parents bought Chinese," Dash said, not fooled for a minute. "Your dad knocked, but I didn't dare say anything."_

_Danny pulled himself up and landed his feet on the ground beside the bed. "I'll go see what there is to eat."_

_After a few minutes, he returned to the bedroom, pushing the slightly ajar door open with his hips, his arms laden with food._

"_Wow," Dash's eyebrows shot up._

"_Yeah, we order a lot," Danny grinned sheepishly, standing over the bed and loosening his grip so that the packages of Chinese food was dumped onto the sheets. Dash joined him, and getting back on the bed, they picked the foodstuff apart together._

_And as the hours passed, Danny resigned himself to the fact that he was spending his weekend in his room sleeping at odd hours thanks to a screwed up circadian rhythm and grabbing whatever pieces of semi-cold Chinese leftovers was closest whenever he felt peckish with Dash. As they leaned back against the headboard of his bed, discussing various topics during the final hours waiting for the sun to rise so that they could drive to school, Danny realized that neither of them had bothered to get out of their boxers or in fact even leave the bed._

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Pushing open the door, Danny heaved a sigh, fatigue taking over him again, as it had been hours since he and Dash had last slept. Dash seemed to feel the same way, for he raised his hand to his mouth to cover a yawn.

Wordlessly, they trudged up the stairs and into Danny's room, and the both of them collapsed on the bed.

"Isn't Kwan supposed to be coming over?" Danny mumbled.

"His fault," Dash exhaled. "I'm not waking up for him."

A snicker escaped Danny, and as he felt Dash's hand wrap around his waist again, he felt the rush of gladness once again to have Dash with him after everything that had happened.

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Author's Note: I'm so sorry for this very (relatively) late update. I've been bogged down with assignments lately, and didn't get a chance to work on this chapter for weeks. I know it's short, especially compared to the last chapter, but this one was to show the aftermath of the party and how their relationship is changing.

And a huge wow at the reviews for the previous chapter! Hope to hear from all of you again.


	15. Say It Softly To Me

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy

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When they had finally sat down at their usual table, Tucker began his round of questions for Danny. "Any news from Walker yet?"

"No," Danny frowned, suddenly remembering the supernatural problems that had presented themselves in his life. He hadn't realized it until now, but he hadn't really bothered to think about many things beyond Paulina's party last Saturday. It was as if everything that had happened before then mattered significantly less, so much so that he had stopped caring so much. "Actually, I almost forgot about that whole thing," he admitted.

To be fair, he had had to deal with a lot since the party, and every issue that arose since then seemed far more pressing.

"I can't believe he hasn't gotten back to you yet," Sam said. "I think you should go back into the Ghost Zone and check up on what's going on. It's definitely been too long."

Danny shrugged. "Walker said not to disturb him; he said he'd come to me when he has something."

"Whenever that is," Sam argued. "You don't find it suspicious at all? He might be your closest thing to a friend there, but ghosts aren't exactly the most trustworthy guys around."

"He's not my friend," Danny sounded as though he thought Sam was crazy for proposing such an idea. "He's really more an ally-slash-acquaintance."

Sam raised an eyebrow.

"It's only been a week," Danny took a bite of his sandwich. "Walker said he's not very good at handling delicate cases, and apparently trying to beat the truth out of the prisoner isn't going to cut it this time."

"Sam's got a point though," Tucker replied. "They've really got it out for you over there. You should be careful. Who knows what you're getting into?"

"I guess," Danny didn't really have the energy to continue the same line of conversation anymore. He had spent the night up with Dash, both of them trying out various ways of entertaining themselves and each other and trying to stifle their giggles so as not to wake up Danny's parents. Having slept the day away, they had woken up near midnight again, and now after whittled away his energy all night and getting through school, he felt exhausted once again.

"You know, we haven't gone ghost-hunting in a while," Sam pointed out just then, as if on cue.

Danny's eyes shot up to look at her. "Oh, yeah, sorry about that," he said, hoping they wouldn't push the matter.

"Have you been going out on your own?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah," Danny lied. "I guess." He hadn't gone patrolling since the night before Paulina's party, a fact that he caught himself guiltily reflecting on at night while he and Dash stayed up. He wouldn't be able to anyway – Dash came over after school, unless he had football practice, in which case he would come over afterwards anyway, and with their new sleeping schedule, he now spent more time at Danny's house than he did his own. Most ghosts didn't come out until night time, and with Dash around now he couldn't exactly ask him to leave in the middle of the night when they woke up. 'Which is why I have to get back to a regular sleeping schedule fast,' Danny told himself.

Easier said than done. Though they were seniors on their way to graduating soon, school kept them both so busy that they couldn't change their sleeping patterns completely around now and risk falling asleep in class all day. He probably wouldn't be able to get back to a regular pattern until the weekend.

"It's not really a big deal anyway," he went on. "Like you guys said, ghosts don't really come around here as often as they used to."

Sam and Tucker shared a look with each other and then gave him identical stares of utter confusion.

"What?"

"Um, Danny," Sam said, "I don't know if you've ever noticed, but you're kind of obsessed with ghost hunting. Especially patrolling."

"What?" Danny's pitch rose. "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's kind of true," Tucker replied. "We've been telling you for months that the number of ghost attacks have really slowed down, but you still insist on patrolling every night. In fact, I think they started declining over a year ago."

"Really," Danny said skeptically, "then why does it feel like I've been trying to hold them off with a Fenton stick?"

"Because they're after Vlad's ghost half," Sam reminded him. "Before he gave it up and handed it to you, the ghosts were basically staying away."

Danny snorted. "So, what, you think I have an obsession?"

"No," Sam shook her head.

Danny smiled triumphantly.

"I think you have obsession_s_," she continued. At Danny's stony look, she said, "Since I've known you, you've pretty much had a fixation on at least one thing at any given point in time. In fourth grade, it was wrestling—"

"Find me one fourth grader who _isn't_ obsessed with wrestling," Danny rolled his eyes.

"In fifth grade, it was Paulina—"

"She'd just moved into town! It was a healthy curiosity."

"In sixth grade it was Paulina; in seventh grade it was Paulina; in eighth grade it was Paulina—" Sam began counting off her fingers.

"And the popular crowd," Tucker added.

"And writing 'the scathing expose that would shake the middle school to its very foundation'," Sam grinned. "And in ninth grade, it was pretty much Paulina, the popular crowd, and after you got your powers, ghosts."

"I never did get to write a very scathing expose," Danny ignored her point. "The closest I got was reporting that rumor that all the meat selections were actually made of tofu."

"I started that," Sam said. "Well, I didn't _start_ it, I _said_ that they should replace all the meat with tofu, and some pigtailed gossip queen wannabe got it twisted."

"No wonder you gave up writing for the school paper," Tucker said.

"Mister Connor said that I should pick it up again," Danny said. "He thought it would give me purpose. But I'm pretty sure he cared more about the fact that it would let me say that I did _something_ in my high school career on college applications."

"Is there really a point?" Sam asked. "School's going to be out in less than three months."

Danny shrugged. "I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea. Better late than never right? Besides, Dash has football practice sometimes and this will help me fill up my—" he stopped short suddenly, catching himself, and glanced sheepishly at the two of them. They both had confused looks on their faces.

"What was that?" Tucker asked.

"Nothing," Danny shook his head, keeping it low, grabbed the plastic spoon on his tray, ripped open the lid on his pudding and began wolfing it down. Over him, Tucker and Sam shared a perplexed look.

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Dash didn't waste any time breaking his news on the ride back to Danny's house. "Paulina's having a party this Saturday."

Danny turned to him in alarm. "What?"

"And you have to be there."

"Why?" Danny asked. "Did she ask for me personally?" He grinned.

Dash rolled his eyes. "No, you dork. It's to make up for last week's party. She refuses to let a ghost leave one of her parties ruined, so she's throwing one this week to make up for it. And she insists that everyone who was there last time be here for this one. That includes you."

"Oh, great," Danny said weakly. He wasn't sure if he was glad to be invited for another one of the popular crowd's parties so soon again or not. He had barely caught his breath from the last one. But then again, what were the odds of a ghost attack this time, right? Paulina certainly didn't seem to think it was possible. In any case, it didn't sound like he had much of a choice, and Danny resolved to be on the lookout for any oncoming ghosts so that the same thing didn't happen again.

"I think I'm going to try out for the school newspaper," he told Dash.

Dash turned to him, a look of mild curiosity on his face. "Really. What brought this on?"

Danny gave a small shrug, keeping his hand on the wheel. "Connor told me it would be a good way to add to my applications; and I figured, with you at practice, I might as well try out for the paper as well. You know, so I can kill some time."

"Truly admirable determination," Dash teased. Danny grinned sardonically.

"Is Kwan coming over today?"

"Yes. And he told me not to go to sleep, because he was standing outside yesterday for like twenty minutes trying to call my cell and get in," Dash informed.

Danny let out a little snort of laughter. A few seconds later, he swerved the car into his usual parking space across the street from his house and cut the ignition. As they got out of the car, he caught sight of the new fire hydrant that had replaced the one Kwan had somehow knocked over. "Did you ever ask Kwan about that thing with the hydrant?"

Dash turned look at where Danny was staring. "No," he replied. "I was just glad nothing happened to my car."

"Hmm," Danny murmured as they made their way to the threshold, "you really should."

Inside, they plopped down on one of the sofas sighing heavily. "Did he say when he'd be coming over?"

"Should be soon," Dash muttered. "There's no practice today."

And so, they spent the time until Kwan arrived watching television – more precisely, they spent the time until Kwan arrived looking at the images on the television screen and acknowledging the fact that noise was blaring from the program while trying their best to stave off sleep.

Finally, Kwan opened the door and walked in. "Guys?" he asked tentatively, noting the glazed look in their eyes and stupefied expressions on their faces.

Dash seemed to come out of a waking coma. "Kwan!" he got to his feet. Danny, too, seemed to be awakening from some sort of open-eyed slumber, shaking his head to wipe away bleariness.

"What were you doing?" Kwan chuckled. "I wasn't sure if it was safe to talk to you or not."

"We were waiting for you," Danny told him, yawning and stretching, his arms shaking as they reached their limit during the stretch. "What took you so long?"

"Oh, I was going over some strategies," Kwan reported.

Dash frowned. "What? I didn't know we were going over strategies. Why didn't anyone call me?"

Kwan glanced at him briefly. "It was just a private thing. Coach wanted me to improve my game."

Dash blinked, a strange look on his face.

Danny made his way to the kitchen. Kwan followed him, but Dash sat back down on the couch. "So, Sam tells me you helped out with the ghost last Saturday," Danny said conversationally.

"Oh, yeah," Kwan grinned.

"You didn't have to," Danny said. "I mean, this is pretty dangerous stuff, and you're still pretty new to it. Tucker and Sam could have handled it."

"It was nothing," Kwan shook his head, reaching for a bottle of water in the fridge and pouring himself a drink. He handed the bottle to Danny, who took it and poured his own drink. "I hope you don't mind. I just went to see what caused the shaking, and when I saw it, I just started helping out. I thought it would earn me some points with you guys, you know." He gave Danny an intense look. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm not going to tell anyone; I just want to help out."

Danny shifted on to his other foot uncomfortably. "I just think you may be jumping off the deep end, that's all," he offered.

"I can handle myself, Danny. Like I said, you don't have to worry about me."

'I'll bet I don't' Danny thought viciously. He gave Kwan an awkward smile.

As Kwan started for the living room again, stepping around him, Danny said, "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you – how did you get your hands on an ecto-gun?"

Kwan turned to him again, a guilty smile on his face. "I took it from your basement," he said. "Sorry. I know I should have told you, I just didn't know how. And I thought since I was getting into this whole ghost fighting stuff I should arm myself."

Danny nodded. "It's okay," he assured the boy. "I just wanted to know."

Inside, he told himself, 'Mental note: Kwan steals.'

By the time he returned to the living room, Dash was stumbling to the staircase. "I'm going to bed," he told Danny as he passed him.

Kwan stared. "Is he going to _your_ bed?"

Danny nodded silently. "Our sleep pattern got kind of messed up after the party," he explained. "We haven't had time to go back to a regular pattern."

Kwan nodded. "Well … should I stay?"

Danny shrugged. "You can do whatever you want. I'm going to sleep too though."

Kwan's eyes followed the route Dash had just taken up the stairs. "Well," he said, "if you guys are going to be sleeping, I might as well go. You don't need me for anything right?"

"No," Danny shook his head. "Where are you going to go?"

"Probably get a little workout," Kwan said. "There wasn't any practice today. Gotta keep the body in shape, you know."

Danny was too tired to make any sort of internal comment on Kwan's exercise routines. He vaguely recalled his plan to follow the boy until he found out what was going on with him, but his sleep-addled brain couldn't handle it right now, so he nodded tiredly and bade goodbye as the other boy left.

Lumbering into his room, he saw that Dash was already under the blankets letting out a soft snore. Danny crawled onto the bed, and landed his head carelessly on to the pillow beneath. Dash, perhaps unconsciously or not, seemed to sense that he was there, probably because of the added heat his body brought to the bed, and wrapped his arms around Danny like he did the day before. Danny snuggled in closer, burying his face in the smooth skin of Dash's chest.

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Kwan only stopped walking when he heard the familiar voice next to him again.

"I don't know why you bother to check in," he said. "You know everything's going according to plan."

"Sometimes it helps to be hands-on," the creature next to him smiled. Out of habit more than anything, Kwan checked around to see if there was anyone about his immediate vicinity. "Don't worry, it's safe."

"Everything is going so slowly," he sighed. "Can't we move things along?"

"Timing is of the essence," it replied. "I've already told you, I've got this plan down to the minute. You are not to deviate from it. Might I remind you that your life is at stake here?"

"I know," Kwan growled. "That's the part that gets me anxious the most."

The figure smiled. "Don't worry. I only want what's best. Nothing is going to happen to you."

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That night when they woke up from their sleep, Dash reached for his backpack. "Get out your laptop," he instructed Danny.

"Why?" Danny asked.

"I brought a movie for us to watch," Dash replied, tossing the DVD case to him after having fished it out. Danny caught it with the back facing toward him, so he decided to read the plotline and reviews first.

"The bitter recount of a boy who is given his heart's desire to succeed in life and how his life spirals out into descent when on his eighteenth birthday, when he is legally no longer considered a child, it all vanishes as if by magic," he read. Flipping it over, the title _The Horrible, Horrible Legend Of Timmy Turner_ glared out at him.

"It's a football movie," Dash said. "And it has some pretty dark themes, so I figured you'd be happy too." Danny smirked at him and retrieved his laptop.

"Speaking of football, why would Kwan need to go over strategies in private?" Danny asked, turning the machine on. "Is that like tutoring for football idiots?"

He looked up and was taken aback to see the look on Dash's face. He couldn't quite place all the emotions that seemed to be expressed at that point. "Kwan wasn't going over strategies in private," he said quietly.

"No?" Danny frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"Because," Dash settled down on the bed in order to get a good view of the laptop's screen, "the reason practice was cancelled this week is because the coach is out of town for the entire week."

Danny froze. "The coach is out this week?"

Dash nodded. "And there's no game until next week, which is why I decided to cancel practice for the time being. Believe me, I know because I haven't been able to stop thinking about how he's going to kill me when he gets back and finds out that I haven't called for practice because I was too tired."

Danny gaped in shock at the blonde, but his mind was running through various thoughts and possibilities too fast for him to be able to concentrate on the fact that he was now staring at Dash with his mouth hanging open like an imbecile. Kwan had lied about what he had been doing this afternoon, and what was even more strange, he had lied to the team captain who knew that there was no possible way that his alibi was true.

Dash snapped his fingers in an annoyed fashion in front of him. "Yo! Fenton! What's up with you?"

Danny was abruptly brought back into the present. "Sorry," he got out. "I was just … thinking."

"Yeah, well, pop the DVD in," Dash nodded to the disc Danny was holding in his hand.

"Right," Danny said in an empty sort of tone. He placed the disc into the laptop's DVD player, and started the program, but all through the process, his mind only kept going over one though.

What the hell was going on?


	16. It Comes Like Breathing

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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In the hours after most people in town were asleep and before school began for another day Danny and Dash lay back on the bed simply staring at the ceiling silently. The movie had long since ended, they didn't feel hungry, and there was nothing they really wanted to do. The time of day and the fact that they had been awake for hours and had some eight hours of school stretching out before them left the two slightly dazed.

"I think I might drift off to sleep," Danny muttered.

Dash didn't take his eyes off the ceiling. "Don't."

"I know," Danny said.

Exhaling loudly, he turned to his side to face Dash and closed his eyes, as though going to sleep.

"Danny—" Dash said.

"I'm just closing my eyes," Danny told him, not bothering to open them as he said it. A few seconds later, Dash decided to follow suit, turning on his side to face Danny and closing his eyes too.

"I feel like I'm in limbo," Danny sighed as Dash pulled him closer again. Dash let out a grunt, either of acknowledgement or agreement, Danny couldn't be sure.

They stayed that way for the next few minutes, neither asleep nor awake.

When he opened his eyes again, Danny felt exhaustion pushing him down like a brick wall. His eyes felt sore and he felt certain there must have been deep bags under them. He let out another sigh, and noticed that he was lying on top of something that felt soft yet tough at the same time. Glancing down, he noticed that part of his face was resting on Dash's solid chest. He was wrapped in Dash's embrace with the jock's arms encircling him below his chest.

Raising his head slightly, being careful not to hit Dash's chin, Danny got a look at the clock hanging from the wall. Only several minutes had passed; there was about an hour left before they had to shower and head off to school. He brought his head back down to rest on Dash's body.

Not wanting to close his eyes again and risk oversleeping for school, nor wanting to wake up Dash before he had to, Danny decided to simply lie there. Feeling Dash's body move up and down with each intake of air, he admired the gentle curve of the blonde's arm where skin covered the muscle of his bicep.

Without thinking, he raised his hand and with one finger lightly traced the outline of the muscles in Dash's arm on the jock's tan skin. When he approached the wrist he took note of the veins collated there, deviating from his pattern to finger each one that he could see.

He raised his eyes back up and was a little surprised to see that Dash was looking back down at him with heavily-lidded eyes. The eyes themselves, from what Danny could see, were dark, so dark that they looked almost black, a vast difference from the ice-blue irises he was used to.

Dash didn't say anything, so Danny allowed his finger to trace over the bicep of his arm again. He veered off-course, the finger slipping away from the arm, partly by accident and partly because Danny wanted to see how far he could go before getting some sort of response from the blonde, before he agitated him enough to make Danny stop.

His finger drifted over Dash's pectoral muscles; still the two of them didn't break eye-contact and still Dash wasn't responding. Unintentionally the nail gave a little scratch to Dash's nipple as the finger passed through the area of his areola, and it hardened. Danny, still focused on Dash's face, saw the tiny shift in the boy's face before it smoothed over again before he registered the fact that the nipple had grown erect, and smiled inside at the fact that he had brought out some sort of reaction what with the boy's currently stoic image.

Danny looked down, oddly fascinated by Dash's body. He saw his areolas and nipples, a light pink, so different from his own darker ones, he looked at his skin, a healthy brown tan, also different from Danny's darker one; though they hadn't been out much in the past few days, ghost-hunting typically kept Danny out in the sun more than Dash did. His fingers skirted against Dash's nipple again, and Dash let out a little growl from the back of his throat, tightening his grip on Danny. Danny felt a little thrill at that and the sensation of pleasurable pain when Dash tightened his grip on him, causing his body to arch back on the jock's muscular arm.

In the movement, Danny's arm fell from the area of Dash's chest down to his stomach. When he opened his eyes, Danny found that Dash's tightened grip and forced his head to fall closer to Dash's so that their noses almost touched. Dash was still looking at his eyes, or perhaps somewhere close to his neck; Danny wasn't sure. Regardless, his hand caressed tight abdominal muscles and squeezed the firm flesh there.

Dash gave a small buck of his hips, one that Danny probably wouldn't have noticed had it not been for the fact that they were so close to each other. Their foreheads pressed against each other, and Dash was breathing hard, his breath ghosting against Danny's cheek. Danny blinked in surprise.

It was like a wake-up call; he pulled away from Dash quickly, and rearranged his shirt so that it covered every inch of his torso. The clock on the wall said that fifteen minutes hadn't even passed since he had last looked.

Shoving himself off the bed and to his feet, he headed off to the bathroom, trying not to break into a run. "You're not going to lock yourself in there again, are you?" He turned around in surprise to see Dash sitting on his haunches on the bed watching him.

Danny's chest swelled up momentarily, not quite sure how to say everything that he wanted to at that moment. "I'm going to take a shower," he said finally, crossing his arms over his chest and pulling his shoulders near as though trying to close in on himself, "you're crazy if you think I'm going to leave it open."

And with that he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

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"Danny?" Sam called out. It was lunchtime and the students had just been released from classes. Tucker was with her, looking at his friend curiously.

Danny groaned. He was holding the door open with one hand, and had stuck his head inside, while his body outside carried a decidedly defeated slump.

"I feel awful," he said in a dull tone, pulling his head out from the locker. Tucker and Sam raised their eyebrows.

"Dude, you look terrible."

"Thanks," Danny said, closing the door.

"Are you feeling feverish?" Sam asked, concerned.

Danny shook his head slowly, as though he didn't have the energy to do it properly. His mouth was slightly open.

"You sure?" Tucker reached to put his hand on Danny's forehead, but stopped when Danny gave a violent shudder and jerked back. "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed.

Danny was gazing at him with a strange expression, and looked more than a little wild. "Nothing," he gave a sharp solitary shake of the head. Another moment passed before he spoke again; "I just … I think I might be coming down with something. A cold." He gave another shake of his head. "I don't want you to catch it."

"Are you going to go home?" Sam asked.

"You think they'd let me?" Danny sounded interested at the thought.

"I guess," she shrugged. "Why shouldn't they?"

Danny shrugged. He wasn't one to cut school to go home entirely – usually only to fight ghosts – but the thought of cutting out the risk of running into Dash in school entirely was extremely appealing. And maybe Dash wouldn't even show up – lately, he'd been getting rides off Danny, and if he were to leave now, he wouldn't be around to give Dash one.

"I'm gonna go home," he announced.

"Well," Tucker still sounded a bit on edge from Danny's reaction, "make sure you see the nurse first, or else they're probably just going to mark you as absent, or under truancy."

Danny nodded, then left to go to the nurse's office.

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Danny tried to creep up the stairs as soundlessly as he possibly could, but winced when he heard his mother say from behind him, "Danny! What are you doing back home so early?"

He turned around on the spot. "I wasn't feeling well. The nurse allowed me to go home."

"Are you feeling feverish?" Maddie asked, pulling off one of the black gloves she typically wore and pressed a cool hand to her son's head. "Mmm … you feel a little clammy, but I don't think it's anything serious."

"It's not a fever," Danny said, trying to think up of some other affliction. "It's … it's my stomach."

"Did you eat some bad food?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "That must be it. It feels awful."

"Your father and I have been trying to call you down to dinner for the past few days, but you were always asleep," Maddie said doubtfully. "Have you been eating enough?"

"Yeah," Danny said again. "I've just been working really hard on this project. For school."

"Well," Maddie gave him an appraising kind of look, "your father and I are off to work. If you think you're up to it, there're some leftovers in the fridge. And try to come down for dinner tonight, okay, sweetie?"

"Sure mom," Danny gave a quick nod. "Later!" he called, rushing up to his room.

Inside, he closed the door behind him, making sure to lock it, and then stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, wondering what to do. He eyed the bed; he didn't feel tired anymore, and anyway, he wasn't sure he felt completely comfortable lying down on it after what had happened that morning. On the other hand, if he were to lie down on it now, he would most probably be asleep within a matter of minutes and could then avoid the entire world for another day.

Checking the clock on the wall, Danny decided that it would be okay to spend about an hour or two on his computer or something; his parents were leaving, and his schoolmates wouldn't be allowed out until three.

He sat down on the chair usually reserved for when he was using his computer in a rather numbed fashion. He couldn't even begin to explain what had happened that morning. All he knew was that he had felt safe – as a matter of fact, he realized, since the party, he had felt safer around Dash than he had felt for a very, very long time – and now he thought that maybe it was because of that feeling of absolute protection that he had slipped into an absent-minded state of being. Fighting ghosts for four years now, Danny had long since forgotten what it was like to do something without really having a true presence of mind; constantly being on alert for ghost attacks would do that to you.

But ghosts hadn't been attacking for a long time, had they? Aside from the increased number of attacks since Vlad had given him the Plasmius soul, as Sam had said, the ghosts had pretty much learned to leave Amity Park alone. Danny surmised that the lack of attacks may have caused him to grow lazy. And when Dash had saved him … it truly was the first time Danny ever considered someone saving him. Sam, Tucker, and even Jazz had done so in the past, but not when he had been so utterly helpless.

The thought of Dash pulling him out of the bookshelf's way inevitably led Danny to thinking about how nice it had felt to rest on the other boy's sturdy shoulder, and how Dash had comforted him. He blushed, remembering the way Dash had stroked his hair and his bare skin that night.

Shaking his head, Danny refocused his thoughts back on explaining his behavior. His habit of remaining on high alert had deteriorated over time due to the lack of ghost attacks, he knew that. And when Dash had saved his life, he seemed to have grown a special affinity towards him, he knew that now too. Why else, he reasoned, would he have insisted that Mr. Connor not cease his intervention program with Dash – other than the fact that it would have meant having to see a professional psychiatrist on a regular basis? And with those feelings and factors combined, Danny supposed that he had simply ran his fingers through Dash's muscles without really thinking about it, focusing only on the fact that he felt safe, especially in the boy's arms. He remembered the sheer awe he had felt gazing at Dash's muscular body, something he had never managed to develop, even with the fighting he got into as Danny Phantom.

But how then could he explain continuing to touch Dash's body when he had found the blonde boy watching? Danny blushed again when he remembered how he had gripped at Dash's firm stomach, how Dash had pulled him closer when – oh, God. Danny felt like hanging himself when he recalled the way he had brushed Dash's nipples over and over, enjoying the way it agitated the jock. What was _wrong_ with him?

There was no time to ponder further though. For the first time in days, Danny's mouth opened involuntarily as a cold wisp of air left him. Jumping up, he opened his arms wide and transformed into his ghost-fighting half.

Zooming out the window, Danny turned his head left and right, searching for his foe, but there was none to be seen. Still, he braced himself for some sort of attack.

On the roof of the neighbor's house, an invisible Skulker cursed himself. He had been spying on the ghost child for Walker again as part of his assignment, but had been careless and gotten too close to the window.

Pocketing the binoculars, he returned to his corporeal form. It was, he decided, better for the half-ghost to duel with him now than for him to grow suspicious. If that happened, there was no telling what might happen. The child was the bane of many in the Ghost Zone due to his ability to figure out their plans and stop them in time – Nikolai, however, fully deserved what he got, hollering his plots for all to hear.

Danny caught sight of his appearance immediately. "You know," he said, "I was actually starting to wonder what took you so long; usually, you don't give up until a gorilla's turned your body into a can opener." He drifted upwards. "But I guess I've knocked even you down a peg."

"Down a peg?" Skulker was offended. "Let's just see who gets knocked around this time then." Immediately after the words left him, a part of the armored suit in the area of the shoulders parted and an array of missiles were raised. Using his visor to lock on to the cocky teenager, Skulker fired.

Danny's eyes widened, momentarily unsure what to do. Instead of relying on the usual trick of turning intangible though, he concentrated and felt his body shift into odd angles, elongating itself as though it were made into rubber. As the missiles headed straight for him, Danny twisted, and felt one missile zoom by his body. Only a second later, he felt another one zoom past the other side.

The next four were incredibly close, but what was a fight without a bit of a challenge, right? Danny forced his elongated body down in a strange sort of ducking motion; the third missile shot through overhead. The fourth, however, was blasting straight for his chest. A brief flash of panic hit him, but he stretched his torso to the left, causing the weapon to miss him completely. The next aimed below his knees – simple enough; Danny simply had to raise his legs. And the last one was going straight for his face. This time though, Danny didn't bother twisting his body but instead turned intangible. The missile went through him, but just as it passed through, he turned solid again and reached behind him to grab the end of it.

"You know, it's really sad when I have to take the hard way out just to make it more of a challenge," Danny said. He pulled the missile in front o him, and then hurtled it towards Skulker. The ghostly hunter stood in his place, frozen. Danny grinned as it exploded on impact with the armor.

Skulker keeled over, but Danny didn't have time to revel in his victory. Dodging the missiles had left them open to hit innocent people or destroy parts of the town. Turning around again, he raced after the strays.

He didn't think he was going to make it, but pushing himself to the limit and beyond, he began to close in on the shells, grabbing one after another and cradling as many as possible in each arm. 'Now all I have to do is make sure I don't drop them,' he thought to himself. The last one was dangerously close to the ground. Danny squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself faster, faster, and when he felt his fingers graze against the metal, it was only more reason to speed up. Finally, he had it within the palm of his hand, and as if by instinct, shifted his body so that he changed direction and narrowly avoided crashing on the road.

Danny didn't pause until he had slowed down, then let his legs down to touch the grass. He was shaking all over; the shells rattled in his arms. Looking around, he turned intangible, and sank into the ground until all around him that he could see was brown soil. Only then did he unfold his arms, letting the objects fall from the crook of his arms. Once they were separate from any part of his body, they turned solid once more and remained stuck in the dirt.

Floating upwards, Danny went back home at a lazy speed, feeling as though he had absolutely no energy left.

When he got back to his house, he paused to check if Skulker was still around. Half of him hoped that he was still on the neighbor's roof – he made a mental note to check of any damage the explosion may have caused when the missile hit the ghost – so that he could keep him in check, but the other half just wanted Skulker gone so that he could just get some rest.

He didn't see anything when he went to check, and although there was some charring on the roof, the damage was thankfully minimal.

He returned to his room, and transformed back into Danny Fenton.

He hadn't even taken a single step when he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom. His jaw dropped open in shock. Who had gotten into the house?

The bathroom door opened and Dash stepped out.

"Dash!" Danny exclaimed.

Dash took a step back. "When did you get in here?"

Danny's expression remained one of shock. "This is _my_ house! When did _you_ get in here? Why aren't you in school?"

"Why aren't _you_ in school?" Dash raised an eyebrow.

"Because I didn't want to be anywhere near _you_!" Danny's voice was ridiculously high-pitched. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't see you in class, so I decided to come here and check if you were around," Dash informed. He paused; Danny could see him trying to phrase his next statement. "You weren't in your room when I came in. When did you get here?"

Danny ignored the question. "How did you come in?" he demanded. "My parents left for work, and I wasn't downstairs to let you in."

"Well, then you need to tell your parents to start locking the door when they leave," Dash said coolly. "It's very dangerous not to."

'Oh great,' Danny rolled his eyes. 'Dad must have been the one who shut the door when they left again.'

"You can't be here," Danny told him. "I'm tired and I'm … embarrassed. Deeply." He took a moment to breathe. "Please leave."

"Danny—"

"Fenton."

Dash stopped, looking as though he didn't understand.

"I think it's best if we went back to being on a last name basis," Danny placed his hands on his hips and raised his head as though daring Dash to challenge him.

"Oh for God's sake, Fenton," Dash sounded irritated now. "You really need to grow up. I'm not going to star calling you 'Fenton' all over again. Danny," he added as an afterthought. "You're making too big a deal out of this."

"Whatever," Danny walked to his bed. "I'm sick. You're not. You have to go back to class."

"I'm a jock, I can skip whenever I want," Dash said. Danny turned to him, indignation on his face.

"No you can't!" The system couldn't be _that_ unfair.

"Okay, maybe I can't," Dash conceded, "but when I go to school tomorrow and say that I left because I felt awful, they're not going to ask Nurse Peterson if I went to see her for confirmation."

The system really was that unfair.

"And," Dash added, "I can just tell Lancer that I was making sure my charge was alright, because I care."

"Oh, and how is that?" Danny raised his voice. "From what I've seen, you don't seem to care about _anything_!"

Dash didn't say anything, waiting for Danny to go on.

Danny let out a whoosh of breath. "You're always going on about how things don't matter because we'll be graduating within a couple of months."

Dash stepped forward. "I don't recall 'always going on' about graduation."

Danny snorted. "Believe me, you do." He didn't notice Dash was getting on the bed until he had actually clambered on. Danny stared at him, unable to believe the boy's bravado to get on the bed and actually unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans down.

"Get off my bed!" he shrieked, shooting his body forward to push the bigger boy off. Dash stumbled backwards in only his shirt and light blue boxers.

There was a pause while Danny tried to collect himself again. "How can you be so calm about this?" he asked in a more composed, albeit still loud, tone. "I mean, I felt you up!"

Dash leveled him with a glare. "Fenton, you did not feel me up." Without warning, he grabbed one of Danny's hands by the wrist and pulled it forward to rest on the front of his boxers. Danny's eyes widened. Dash flung it away, still glowering.

"If you're going to complain about doing something," Dash said, "at least _do_ _it_ first." And grabbing his pants, he left the room.

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Hours later, Danny staggered down the stairs, holding on to the banister for support. He had spent some time thoroughly washing his hand in a meticulous fashion, and afterwards had spent over an hour simply lying in bed thinking nothing.

Finally, he had decided to go downstairs, something he had put off for hours for fear of finding Dash waiting on one of the couches in the living room.

Mercifully, the house was empty. Danny felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of Dash storming home, but quickly reminded himself that he had come home to avoid him in the first place and had done nothing wrong. He learned to quickly shut his brain off whenever this happened because any further thought would lead to uncomfortable questions, such as analyzing why he had touched Dash and why Dash had seemed so disappointed by the fact that nothing worse had happened.

He paced around for a little bit, wondering what to do now, before remembering the conversation he had had with Tucker and Sam the previous day about checking up on Walker to see what was going on with the interrogation. It was something to do, so he yanked the door to his parents laboratory open and rushed downstairs, transforming into Danny Phantom as he made his way down. Unexpectedly, a cold wisp of air escaped his mouth.

"H—hey!" he shouted when he saw a figure downstairs. The ghost that had been scouring the room turned around at the call, its mouth open in an 'o' of surprise.

"Technus," Danny snapped, "what are you doing?"

"Er," Technus hovered above the air, "would you believe that I was looking for something to pin my hair down?"

"Your hair is already tied down," Danny pointed out. "And sorry, but I think my sister took her stuff with her to college," his hands began glowing with ectoplasmic energy, "but maybe Ember can loan you something when I knock you all the way back to the Ghost Zone."

"Now, look here, child—"

Danny lunged for him. Technus screeched, trying to back away from the danger zone.

Danny missed, but that didn't stop him from trying again. Careful to not destroy any of his parents' inventions, he and Technus dodged and danced their way through the laboratory.

The fight was cut short, however, when Danny heard a voice call out from above, "Danny? You here?"

"Kwan?" Danny turned to face the door. It opened. "No, don't come down here!" Danny ran to the stairs.

Kwan appeared, peeking down to get a better look at him. "Why not? I—"

Danny let out a cry of alarm when he felt something hit his back painfully. He fell down, and turned around to see Technus floating above him.

Kwan responded quickly, pulling out the ecto-gun he had taken from the lab and shot at the dead genius. Technus, not expecting this, backed away. Danny got to his feet and chased after him.

Technus, finding the portal blocked, turned around to face Danny. Then, he put his hands together to form a ball of ectoplasmic energy and threw it. Danny tried to avoid it, but the speed at which it traveled and the short distance between the two of them didn't allow for such a dodge. The ball of energy hit his right hand, knocking it back and causing it to land directly on the genetic authorization recognition key that opened the doors to the Fenton Portal. The heavy doors opened, and Technus fled inside.

By the time Danny recovered, the doors had been closed again. He let out a sound of frustration. He could chase after him, but there didn't seem to be much of a point, and he didn't want to go in with Kwan of all people around. He realized then that without Tucker or Sam to key in the manual override code to open the doors, there would be no way for it to open again to let him back out.

"Thanks," he said grudgingly to Kwan when he neared him. He willed himself back into his regular self.

"No problem," Kwan said.

They climbed up the stairs together. "Dash with you?" Danny asked dully.

"No. He left after lunch and didn't come back," Kwan told him.

Danny nodded, but didn't say anything else. He had a lot to think about, and absolutely nothing to voice.


	17. This Scar Must Fade

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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When the final bell rang the next afternoon, Danny wondered if he ought to wait for Dash. No, he decided he wouldn't. There was no telling if Dash would bother coming over anymore after their recent fiasco, despite all those times he had insisted to Danny that nothing would daunt his dedication to fulfilling his duties however distasteful he found them, and if he did want to come over, Kwan would be able to give him a ride.

Kwan had been surprised to find out yesterday that Dash had come over during the lunch period and left before then. "Why didn't he call me?" he had asked Danny. The reason he had bothered coming over, after all, had been because Dash had asked him weeks ago to come over every day to help him keep an eye on his charge, and it had become tradition for the two jocks to spend the day at the Fenton residence. Danny had simply shrugged, not wanting to volunteer information. Kwan had hesitated for a bit after that but in the end had decided that if Dash wasn't around to keep an eye on the allegedly depressed boy, then he might as well do it for him, and had spent the afternoon watching cartoons quietly with Danny.

But now, Danny didn't want to go home just yet. The thought of possibly having to face Dash there again so soon afterwards made him want to hide under the refrigerator; one day's reprieve was not enough to dull the embarrassment he felt over the whole situation, and anyway, he told himself, for an eighteen year old, he had been cooping himself up in his house for far too long. Pulling out his cellphone, he dialed Tucker's number.

"Dude, why are you calling when we're still in school?" Tucker said without preamble when he answered.

"Because I want to get out of here quick, and I can't do that if I'm looking around for you," Danny told him. "Is Sam with you?"

"Yeah, she's right here, you wanna talk to her?"

"No. Do you guys want to go out?"

"Sure," Tucker accepted. "Where?"

"I don't know," Danny shrugged, even though Tucker couldn't see him. He tossed his bag into the backseat. "Meet me by my car."

Two minutes after he hung up, Sam and Tucker were there. Danny gave them a puzzled look when he saw their stares. "What?"

"Um," Tucker said, "dude, you look kind of …" he paused, trying to think how to put it in the nicest way possible, "feral."

"What?" Danny spun around and bent lower to look at his reflection in one of the side view mirrors of his cars. Tucker was right. His hair looked messy – it always looked messy, but usually fell into a sort of pattern that allowed it to be passed off as neat to those who knew him – his eyes drooped as though he didn't have the energy to keep them open, which Danny attributed to the fact that he had spent the afternoon with Kwan instead of going to sleep and had not been close his eyes for more than a couple of hours at night, and he looked, on the whole, haggard.

"Have I been walking around like this _all day_?" his voice escalated as he uttered the words to end the sentence in a shriek.

Tucker shrugged. "I don't know, I haven't seen you all day. Ow!" he glared at Sam when she jabbed him in the ribs.

"You didn't look bad, Danny," she consoled. "And you don't look bad now. _Right_?" she gave Tucker a meaningful look, and he in turn gave Danny an eager nod.

Danny sighed. "Let's just go," he said. "I think I've had about as much of school as I can take today."

"You sure you don't just want to go to bed?" Tucker asked. "I mean, not that you look bad or anything," he quickly added when Sam's elbow jutted out slightly with the promise of another jab.

Danny shook his head. "No," he said. "I'm trying to get back to a normal sleeping pattern."

"When did you break it?" Sam asked, getting into the backseat.

"I stayed up last night," Danny lied. There was no need to mention the jock party again, and he definitely did not want to risk his friends finding out that he and Dash had been sleeping together since then. 'Sharing the same bed,' he corrected himself.

"So where are we going to go?" Tucker asked as they pulled out of the school's compound. He didn't feel much like driving around town aimlessly today. Tucker was sitting upfront, something Danny took note of. It was a reminder of what had changed in their relationship. Sam had usually claimed front seat in Danny's car, but now seemed content to sit in the back behind Tucker, the position furthest away from Danny as possible.

"I don't know," Danny shrugged. "We could go to the park again."

Tucker wrinkled his nose. "Too sunny," he said.

"When did you guys go to the park?" Sam asked.

"Couple of weeks ago," Danny told her. It had been the day directly after Sam had told him nothing would come of their friendship, so obviously she hadn't been around when they went.

"Let's go to the mall," Tucker suggested. "We could catch a movie."

"Fine with me," Danny told him. Sam raised no objections, so Danny took a left at the next intersection. They sat in silence for a while, and more for a lack of better thing to do than anything else, he asked, "So what are you guys going to do this summer?"

"Probably nothing," Tucker said.

"I think my parents are going to try and drag me to Paris," Sam said in a bored tone.

"That sounds awesome!" Tucker enthused.

"Not when the trip means spending hours every night watching a bunch of models shoving their hips side to side walking down a runway," Sam said. "And all my dad ever does on trips is set up business deals and drag us all on tours."

"Bummer," Danny said.

"What about you?" Tucker asked him.

He gave a small shrug. "I might try to get a job. It'd be good to get one before college starts."

"So …" Sam said tentatively, "have you decided where to go?"

Danny hesitated. "I guess I'll be going to Amity U. It's cheap, it's convenient…."

A tense silence greeted this. "I hear they have some really excellent lecturers there," Tucker said. Danny thought he could hear the unspoken words, _Yeah, Danny, you won't be missing out on anything at all_.

"Guys, it's okay," he said, not wanting the afternoon with his friends to be uncomfortable. "I know it means not going away for college, and I'm okay with that. A lot of people choose Amity U; it's a good school and I'll be able to fight ghosts as well." The assurances sounded weak, and although he hated himself for it, Danny could not stop the voice in his head from commenting bitterly, 'I don't feel trapped at all.'

Sam seemed to have decided to try and press the matter a little bit more. "Danny, you know it's like we said, the ghosts don't really attack anymore," she said softly. "Even with the Plasmius soul, there aren't as many attacks as there used to be. People here know how to take care of themselves, and your parents..."

"I know," Danny said. He didn't say anything else, and he knew he didn't have to. It just didn't feel right, abandoning the people of this town to up and leave. Sure some people knew how to defend themselves, but although a citizen of Amity Park would be the most prepared against a ghost attack compared to the residents of other towns, the fact remained that most were still helpless. The ghost hunters couldn't handle every attack, and by the time they got there, most, if not all, damage would already be done, and the ghost might have even left.

At that point, his eyes shifted up, and he caught sight of a large hill. Suddenly struck with inspiration, he said, "Hey, you know what we should do before we leave?" He pointed to the cliff. "We should go up to Castle's Point."

Castle's Point was the highest point overlooking the town. With its steep and precarious path, it had been so called due to the fact that it looked like the kind of place a castle would be as shown in cartoons and movies. Though no barriers had been put up, it was understood that it was generally too dangerous to drive up, which dissuaded many from going there. It was, therefore, seen as a sort of challenge and to some even a rite of passage to hike up to the top and sleep under the stars with only a sleeping bag, as a tent was typically too bothersome to put up with.

"Up there?" Tucker raised his eyebrow. "Couldn't we just go to a party and call it a night?"

"I think it's a great idea," Sam leaned forward, gazing up at it. "Not many people go up there, so it could be just a thing between us, and it is something we've never done before, which is perfect if we're going to go our separate ways soon. Amity Park's final frontier."

"We should totally do it," Danny couldn't stop an delighted grin from creeping on to his face. "We could do it at the end of summer. That way, we'll have everything out of the way, and it'd be the perfect goodbye." A small lump in his throat formed at the thought of saying goodbye to his friends and going on without them constantly in his life, but he swallowed it down.

"I'm in," Sam jumped on the idea, nodding.

"Fine," Tucker said, although Danny could see excitement shining in his eyes too.

A few more minutes of driving, and the mall loomed overhead. After finding a parking spot, Danny cut the engine and the three of them got out.

"I want a muffin," Tucker announced.

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After getting Tucker his muffin, which he was happily munching on now, the three friends made their way to the record store.

"I don't know why we come here,' Sam commented after a few minutes of browsing. "This place never has anything except Top 40 junk."

"Might be an indication that you need to change," Tucker offered.

"Into mainstream embrace?" Sam curled her lip. "Hardly."

The selections weren't to Danny's taste either. Passing over the hip-hop genre entirely, he fingered through some rock albums, but there weren't many albums that he liked. He felt the vibration of the cellphone in his pocket. A second later, a shrill ringing tone followed. Danny pulled out the phone and looked at the screen. Dash's name flashed on it. Without stopping to reconsider, he canceled the call.

"Who was that?" Tucker asked, peeking out from the bargain bin.

"Nobody," Danny said, pocketing the phone again. "Now."

"This blows. I propose we go for a movie," Sam said.

"I second the motion!" Tucker raised his hand.

"Can't you just say 'yes'?" Sam rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. Tucker stuck his tongue out at her.

"Yeah, why not," Danny agreed. The thought of a dark theatre and a possibly mindless movie was enticing. He made for the exit. Tucker followed behind. Sam started to go too, but then pulled herself back to take the remaining copy of Ember's CD from four years ago and hid it from sight behind a stack of CDs, grinning devilishly.

Outside, she found her two friends stocking up on candy at a nearby stall. "Because popcorn is never enough," Tucker said without waiting for her to ask for an explanation.

"I think we should try melting it over the popcorn," Danny said, scooping handfuls of chocolate into his bag.

"Sweet," Tucker grinned.

Just then someone bumped rudely into Sam. "Watch it," an exotic voice said carelessly.

"Hanging around chocolate, Paulina?" Sam dusted the side of her skirt, keeping her eyes locked on to the Hispanic girl. "Aren't you afraid your delicate skin is going to break out just by looking at it?"

"No," Paulina raised her head imperiously, "but I am afraid looking at you any longer will turn me into stone."

"Oh, is that the best you've got?" Sam snapped. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, what with all those _F_'s , that you can't think long enough to make up a decent comeback."

"Don't expect everyone to be able to make retorts as good as yours, Sam," Paulina's eyes swept over the other girl distastefully. "Considering the way you dress yourself, you probably have all day to make them up."

At this point, she turned her attention to Danny, placing her hands on her lips and giving him the small smile that the entire male population of Casper High dreamed to have directed at them. "Hey, Danny," she said. "Dash told you to come to my party this week right?"

"Uh, yeah, Paulina," Danny said awkwardly. A sense of loyalty to Sam, who was seething behind her, told him to be as unfriendly as possible to Paulina – which wouldn't have done much anyway, because regardless of his conflict regarding his recent behavior around Dash, Danny was still very much attracted to Paulina, and aside from that, despite all her flaws, did like the girl on the whole.

"Great," Paulina beamed. "I'll see you there then."

After she walked off, Sam turned to Danny. "_Another_ party?"

"You know those popular types," Tucker said casually. "They like to party."

"Paulina's kind of making up for what happened last Saturday," Danny said in an apologetic tone.

"Oh, of course," Sam fumed. "It's not enough that they actually partied outside the house after the ghost attacked, she has to throw a _'make-up'_ party as well," she went over the word 'make-up' as though it were poison.

"What do you want her to do?" Danny defended. "It's not like she's allowed patch up the cracks on the wall where the ghost hit it. It's her house and she wants to throw a party, I don't see what the big deal is."

"And why are _you_ going?" Sam shot back.

"She's kind of," Danny rubbed the nape of his neck uneasily, "telling everyone who was there last week to come this week." He hoped that sounded discreet enough to throw Sam off.

"She's _forcing_ people to come?" Apparently not. Even Sam sounded shocked that Paulina would go that far.

"Wow," Tucker munched on one of the pieces of chocolate in his bag, his eyes darting from Sam to Danny as they talked.

"Well, she's got a reputation for her parties, and one of them got messed up, so she's making up for it and making sure everyone is there to experience it," Danny said. "I mean, you can understand wanting to protect a rep, can't you?"

"Sure, one worth honoring—"

"Hey, kids," they were suddenly interrupted by the middle aged man running the chocolate counter, "you gonna move it or buy some more candy? And you—" he snatched Tucker's bag away from him, "no eating before paying."

"Aw man," Tucker moaned, but allowed the man to weigh the bag before handing him some money. Danny did the same after him, and the three of them moved out of the way to allow the other customers through.

"Look, I've got it all figured out," Danny continued. "I'll go, and this time I'll keep a constant eye out for ghost activity. If there's anything going on, I'll ditch and take care of it."

"I just don't see why everyone indulges her like this," Sam sighed. "But fine."

"You know, she really isn't so bad," Danny told them. "She's obsessed with everything cool and trendy, just like the rest of them, but if she's away from all that, she can be pretty nice."

"Like Dash." Sam quirked an eyebrow.

"And Kwan." Tucker got on the escalator.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess," Danny's mind momentarily flickered back to Dash. "I thought they were insufferable jerks, but after a while, I found out they were pretty okay. When we hang out, the labels don't matter, and I got to find out they were good guys."

"Um, excuse me, but didn't you suspect Kwan of something?" Tucker reminded.

"I still am," Danny said. "And I haven't gotten very far. But other than that, he's great."

"Danny, those people are only hanging out with you because they have to," Sam pointed out. "Sure, they might be marginally more decent when no one else around, but they still treat us and everyone outside their little clique like dirt every other time. Who wants to be around people like that? It's completely immature behavior."

"I know, I know," Danny raised his hands up. "I'm just saying, they're not all that bad if you get the chance to hang out with them."

"Well, unlike you, we're never going to be able to hang out with them, so thankfully, I won't get the chance to test that theory," Sam smiled contentedly.

The three of them chattered on as they reached the line for movie tickets, the conversation directing itself away from the topic of the popular group and on to other things.

"Why don't you guys get the tickets and I'll get the snacks," Danny suggested, stepping away from the crowd.

"You just bought a huge bag of chocolate and you're going to buy more snacks?" Sam asked.

"Large popcorn for me," Tucker said, unfazed. "Buttered."

"Right," Danny noted. "Sam, anything for you?"

"Just water," she told him.

Since it was the middle of the week and school had just let out for the day, there wasn't too much of a crowd, but Danny still felt a twinge of annoyance when he saw the amount of people before him. Even as he slid into place, more people were already lining up behind him.

He waited impatiently for the line to move, but all hopes of getting food and drinks were abandoned when he heard a high-pitched scream somewhere in the vicinity. He closed his eyes in attempt to avoid going crazy. Was it too much to ask for one day of peace?

Turning around, he found some ghost he had never seen before hovering in midair mid-way between the box office and the snack bar. Since it wasn't facing his direction, Danny couldn't see much of it, except for the fact that it was big and green and had long arms that looked quite disproportionate to its body. Everyone around was watching it, mesmerized, instead of behaving in the usual chaotic way that was expected of them. Cursing himself, Danny pointed and cried out in an exaggerated tone in hopes of jump-starting the crowd, "Oh no! Look! It's a _ghost_!"

That did it. Several people smattered all around the area burst into shrieks, and shortly after everybody else followed, throwing the entire place into disarray.

Slowly backing away from the crowd with a hand stretched out to alert him of anyone attempting to barrel through in order to get away and avoid being trampled on, Danny reached the snack bar's counter, and turned to see that there was no one manning it, like he had hoped. Giving himself a little leverage, he slid over the counter and dropped gracefully on to the floor where, safely out of sight, he transformed.

Danny Phantom shot out like a bullet and skidded to a stop in midair close to the new menace. "All I wanted," he said to it, "was just one day to myself. Really, was that too much to ask?" The ghost turned to him with a look Danny thought meant that it was going to say something.

Instead, its eyeballs rolled back in its head as its jaw dropped unbelievably low and it let out an earth-shattering roar right at his face.

"Oh, great," Danny said when he recovered. "Uncivilized too." He patted his white hair down to its normal state, as the ghost's howl had blown it upwards. Curling his fingers into a fist, he rammed it up into the ghost's closed jaw.

Danny watched as the ghost's large eyes contracted, and then saw one of its arms zoom forward and felt a searing pain as it hit him directly in the chest. He was sent backwards, clutching his chest and gasping for breath. He hadn't expected it to be able to hit so _hard_. Compared to the rest of its body, the ghosts arms looked weak and thin.

His eyes widened when one arm came for him again; what was shocking about it was that it stretched beyond normal limits, elongating itself enough to reach him.

'Wonderful,' Danny thought. He darted to the left in attempt to avoid the arm, but even as he did, the ghost simply swung its arm in his direction, slamming into his ribs.

Danny nearly tumbled to the ground, then with a slight growl fired an ectoplasmic beam at the limb.

The ghost drew back, letting out a cry that conveyed pain. Danny took the time to make sure Tucker and Sam were okay, and saw that they were hiding near a large poster advertising an upcoming comedy. Luckily, it seemed that they were out of harm's way. Danny couldn't spare another glance though, for the ghost was preparing for another attack.

Turning intangible, the ghost's right arm passed harmlessly through him, but when he returned to solid form, once again it hurtled for him. Desperately, Danny raised his hands up and formed a circular shield out of ectoplasmic energy. The ghost, not expecting it, hadn't geared enough energy to break through it, but one more swing of its arm, and it crashed through the shield.

Danny was forced backwards again from the force of the hit, but thankfully the shield had managed to absorb quite a bit of the energy.

He was in no shape to fight such an opponent right now. Sleep-deprived and weary of ghosts, Danny knew he couldn't handle many more beatings today. So it was with this thought that he created an ectoplasmic ball and hurled it towards the ghost. It was a direct hit. Danny flew to where Tucker and Sam were, but before he was able to get the Fenton Thermos from them, the ghost attacked again, this time punching him with one elongated arm across the face and then managing an uppercut punch.

Danny's face stung. He opened his arm to shoot out another beam of energy, but then heard a call "Heads up!" and caught sight of the Thermos flying through the air in his direction. Quickly he pulled off the cap and aimed it at the large ghost.

With a scream of protest, it tried to grip on to a railing in attempt to beat the pull of the Thermos, but by floating closer and increasing the power of the Thermos's vacuum, the force eventually grew too much for it to contend with.

The crowd was still frantic below him, so Danny blindly threw the Thermos in the direction where he had seen Tucker and Sam, then flew back to the snack bar's counter, taking a chance and changing as he approached it. By the time he hit the floor, the last traces of the jumpsuit of his alter-ego were disappearing and he was once again eighteen-year-old Danny Fenton.

When he emerged again, people were still scattered and screaming, though there were significantly fewer people around. Eventually, though, the ones still around noticed that the threat was gone, and the frightened shouts subsided within time.

"Danny!" he heard Sam's relieved voice. She rushed up to him, Tucker behind her, wrapping her arms around him in a hug.

"It's okay," he said.

"Should we go over to your place?" Tucker asked.\

Danny chewed on his lip. "No," he said. He had just won yet another fight, and while dead tired too. He deserved much more, he thought, than to just go home and go to sleep. "I want to watch that movie."

Sam blinked. "Um, Danny, we can't." She gestured to the area behind her. "Everyone's gone. We didn't get the tickets, and I seriously doubt anyone is going to be showing movies right now."

"Oh, sure they will," Danny said unconvincingly, taking in the sight behind her. There was a pause, and then he said with a grin, "I bet there's no one to stop us from sneaking in."

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Though it wasn't what they had planned to watch, Danny, Sam and Tucker eventually found a theatre showing a movie that had only begun fifteen minutes ago. Now as they drove back, Danny turned to Tucker, and said, "I need you guys to come in with me for a while."

"Why?" Tucker questioned.

"I'm going into the Ghost Zone, and I need you guys to open the doors once I'm done."

"Are you going to talk to Walker?" Sam asked.

"No, not yet," Danny shook his head.

"Well, who are you going to see?" she frowned.

"I'll tell you all about it later," he said. "I just have some questions I want to ask. I'm not even sure if I'll be able to find anything."

Sam thought he was acting awfully mysterious, but decided to drop the issue.

When they reached the house, Danny entered, but Sam's feeling of suspicion intensified further when she noticed his posture. It looked as though Danny were almost creeping into the house. His upper body was curved forward, as though he was trying to keep an eye out by peeking in first, and he walked in slowly. Before she could ask him what was wrong though, he straightened up and motioned for them to come in.

Tucker eyed him warily when he walked in, which Sam caught as well, but he didn't say anything to Danny, so she decided not to raise any questions just yet. They opened the door to the laboratory and walked down. Danny remained by the door for a moment, looking around the living room once again as though he expected to find somebody there, and then followed them down and closed the door as well.

Her attention diverted by the computer in the lab that controlled various items around the house, including opening the door to the Ghost Zone, Sam didn't notice Danny stealing a quick glance around the lab to make sure that no one was around either, particularly of the blond, blue-eyed variety.

"Okay," he said to them finally, transforming again into Danny Phantom, "you guys man the controls. I'm going in."

"How will we know when you're ready to get out?" Tucker asked.

"Give me half an hour," Danny told him.

"Half an hour?" Sam asked, surprised. "That's a lot longer than you usually take in there."

"Yeah, well, like I said, I'm not sure what I'm looking for," Danny eluded.

He walked over to the computer, pulling off one white glove, and pressed his hand against the genetic lock. The doors slid open, and, placing the glove back, flew through to the other side.

When the doors closed behind him, Sam turned to Tucker and opened her mouth to voice her concerns, but closed it shut again when he said, "I should have gotten another muffin."

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"I don't know what to tell you, I can't find anything,"

Danny opened his eyes.

"_Nothing?_"

"Nothing."

"I don't understand," he shook his head. "I thought for sure..."

"I've never heard of anything like it. When did you start noticing?"

"Not long ago," Danny shrugged. "I didn't think much of it until recently."

"I'm sorry to say that I can't help you with it. But then again, you're not quite the normal kind. Have you been feeling troubled by anything lately?"

Danny let out a short mirthless laugh. "I'm an eighteen-year-old half-ghost fighter who's morally bound to spending his life in Amity Park. Take your pick."

"Yes, but you knew that already."

Danny raised his eyes to meet Frostbite's. "What?"

"You already knew those things," Frostbite repeated. "You knew one day you would turn eighteen years old, you already knew you were a half-ghost champion of peace, and I'm certain you were already aware for quite a while that you wouldn't allow yourself to leave town for fear of what would happen to others. I asked if anything's been troubling you _lately_."

'Well, that's been troubling me lately," Danny snapped. It was one thing to be aware of all these things about his life; it was quite another to be on the brink of experiencing it as it all came to pass. He sighed. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Frostbite said.

Danny swung his legs back and forth alternately. "Well, there has been one other thing," he admitted, keeping eyes to the ground. Frostbite waited patiently for the boy to continue. "There's this person," Danny said finally. "Someone I didn't expect."

"You are attracted," Frostbite said plainly.

Danny felt an emotion that felt somewhat like shock, except that it was more of a vague shadow of it. He supposed that he hadn't expected – nor had he been quite ready – to hear it being put that way.

"I guess it's something like that," he said slowly. "But not really," he added. After a pause, he said, "Well, sort of. It's a very messy – I mean, complicated – situation."

Frostbite didn't say anything. This conversation was not going well. How could Danny express what he meant? The feelings bubbling up inside him, while horrifying and unexpected, and turbulent, and just _wrong_, still made sense enough to him to be able to identify and explain them, yet whenever he tried to put it in words, everything got muddled up.

"It's someone unexpected," he said. Frostbite gave a slight nod of head. "I hated this person – and don't give me that stuff about how there's a fine line—"

"I wasn't going to," the white creature gave a small smile.

"And the person was forced into my life, and I had to deal with them," Danny said. "A bunch of stuff happened, and we started getting close, and …" he paused. "Well, let's just leave it at that."

"So you are going through a bout of confusion," Frostbite noted.

"Confusion, doubt, horror, regret, fear, and just about everything in between and everything left out," Danny said.

Frostbite nodded. "It is possible that this situation may have a bearing on your concerns."

"I guess it would," Danny said. "How do I fix it?"

Frostbite gave him a sympathetic smile. "Unfortunately, Great One, as it stands, the matters of the heart aren't so easy to deal with."

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Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews in the previous chapter. Hope you liked this one.


	18. All Is Ever Said Is Wrong

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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The next few days after Danny had returned from the Ghost Zone, he had been oddly quiet. Sam and Tucker had tried to ask numerous times about who he had been to see, but Danny gave no straight answer and did not seem like he wanted to discuss it. A little more than slightly worried, Tucker and Sam had come to a spoken agreement to not approach the matter with Danny anymore but observe what they could from a distance. However, they weren't getting much further ahead this way either, for aside from his tendency to drift off into his quiet musings, Danny didn't seem to show any outward differences in his behavior.

"Well, none that we can pick out, anyway," Sam said.

"I think that pretty much qualifies for 'no difference', don't you?" Tucker raised his eyebrow.

"Not necessarily," Sam shook her head. "What if the reason we can't pick up any major differences in the way he's been acting is because it was gradual?"

"What do you mean 'gradual'? I think we would have noticed if one of our best friends changed."

"We keep trying to find some point in the past few days or weeks—"

"Or months," Tucker reminded.

"—or months," Sam added, "when Danny suddenly started acting so mysterious, but it might not have worked out that way. What if this has been going on longer, bit by bit? You never notice a gentle slope the way you would a steep drop."

"Might I remind you, Sam, that we don't even know what we're looking for?" Tucker pulled open the refrigerator door and pulled out one of the sodas that the Mansons' kept their house so well-stocked with. "I mean, so he doesn't want to talk about something with us. Who cares? I don't tell you guys everything."

"When has Danny ever not told us anything about the Ghost Zone?" Sam argued. "And I don't think he's even bothered to think about checking up on Walker to see if he's gotten anything out of Bullet yet."

"Sam, there guys are immortal," Tucker said in a reasonable voice. "You can't exactly rush these things with a death threat."

"Maybe not," Sam said determinedly, "but Walker has only ever dealt with ghosts, and he's broken all of them until now. I don't care what you say, this just isn't right."

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Before turning the corner and heading for his car, Danny took care to poke his head out slightly and peek around to see if Dash was there. It had become practice for him now, even though it had only been a few days since their last encounter, for Danny to take every corner slowly, making sure that the coast was clear.

He hated this. He hated how he had been reduced to a pile of quivering nerves, forcing himself to always look around for signs of the other boy. Danny was quite sure that if he didn't have the power to turn invisible and intangible at will, he would have had to train himself to look for possible hiding places wherever he went. As it were walking in crowded spaces already filled him with dread – it was always hard to suddenly disappear in the middle of a crowded hallway; one never knew who was watching.

Just as he had made it to the car, his cellphone rang. Danny pulled it out of his pocket and frowned at the number. It wasn't one that had been programmed into the address book, and he didn't recall ever seeing it before. Apprehension filling him, he accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Danny?" He winced.

Squinting his eyes, he asked, "Kwan? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," Kwan replied.

"Why are you shouting?" Danny asked, holding the phone a little further away from his ear.

"Sorry, it was a little noisy," Kwan said. "I'm in the locker room, and you know how these guys get."

A small frown came over Danny's face. He hadn't heard any noises in the background.

"Anyway, I have to go to practice now," Kwan said. "I'm coming over later, right?"

"Um …" Danny glanced around. "Yeah, I guess. You aren't going to bring Dash with you, are you?"

"No," Kwan said, then quickly added, "not unless you want me to."

"No!" Danny's voice came out a little louder than he had intended.

"Okay," Kwan said. "I'll see you later then."

Hanging up, Danny got into the car, pulling out and driving home. His mind filled with little flashes of the issues that currently plagued him all the way there, switching from his yet-to-be-fulfilled decision to try out for the school paper, the obsession the ghosts seemed to have with the Plasmius soul, as Sam had dubbed it, and – though he had tried his hardest not to – Dash.

His mind constructed a sort of timeline about their relationship. He briefly thought of how they had met in first grade, when everyone had been pretty much been lumped into considering each other as friends, third when they for a few months been on the same side in soccer in the third grade, Dash's eventual disinterest in having anything to do with him and his friends and vice-versa, their sudden obsession with cliques and popularity – or rather, Danny corrected himself, Dash's obsession with cliques and popularity; he and Tucker weren't as indifferent to it as Sam was, but he was sure Dash and his group concerned themselves with the shallowness of it all far more than they did – how as they grew older, they had eventually become punching bags for Dash and his fellow physically-mature friends; and now after all of that, they had been forced to be around each other constantly again, and it had resulted—

Danny blushed when he thought of all the things he and Dash had done since Paulina's party. Memories of sleeping in Dash's arms, sometimes wrapping the bigger boy in his own as well, staying up all night, almost never leaving his room for days on end floated around in his head along with even more embarrassing memories of the two of them touching, his unexplainable desire to touch that body, the more shocking event of how Dash done more than hint at wanting to go even further than they had already … he had to stop this.

About as soon as he had caught himself, he started to get lost in thoughts about Dash again. The image of the jock pulling Danny's hand to touch the front of his, Dash's, boxers filled his mind again, repeatedly. And finally his thoughts landed to what Frostbite had told him the other day, about how matters of the heart were more complicated to deal with – did he really think that, that Danny's problem was a matter of the _heart_? Sure, it looked bad, Danny reasoned, but to go that far was unreasonable.

It wasn't until he opened the front door to the house that he realized that he had spent the entire car trip thinking about Dash.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the doorbell rang, Danny had numbed his mind with a good hour and a half's worth of mindless television, so when he opened it, it took a few moments to register that he was staring up into the faces of both Dash and Kwan.

Danny gave Kwan a very dirty look, who had the decency to give a sheepish look in response. Danny half-considered slamming the door shut in their faces, but instead reluctantly stepped aside to let them in.

When Kwan brushed past, Danny grabbed on to his wrist, pulling him down to his level, the same stony look on his face. "Why did you bring _him_ here?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

"He wanted to talk to you!" Kwan said defensively. "What could I do?"

"You told me you wouldn't bring him!"

"He was sitting next to me," Kwan said. "Who do you think told me to call?"

Danny rolled his eyes in disgust. The boy was absolutely useless.

Dash placed his hand on Danny's shoulder. "Can I talk to you?" he asked imperiously.

Danny almost said no, but knew it wouldn't fly. Grudgingly, he allowed Dash to lead them into the kitchen, so that Kwan wouldn't be around to witness their conversation.

"You have got to stop this," Dash said at once.

"What?" Danny said shrilly, though he knew perfectly well what Dash was talking about.

"This whole avoiding me thing," Dash replied. "It's not going to work."

"Worked fine until now," Danny shot back.

The look that crossed Dash's face just then suggested that he was dealing with a difficult child.

"You know, you were the one who started touching _me_," he said in a harsh whisper. Danny stared. He knew this of course, but he hadn't expected Dash to say it. "You're the one who started _all of this_," he continued. "I just wanted to finish it and get out, but if we want to be able to get on with our lives and leave each other alone, then we're going to have to get through this together – and we can't do that if you keep avoiding me."

Danny chewed on the inside of his cheek, arms crossed, an unyielding look on his face.

Dash sighed. "Please?"

"Fine," Danny bit out. He kept his glowering eyes on Dash's as he walked out of the kitchen, his mind saying to the other boy, 'But you keep your hands off me.'

When they walked back into the living room, Kwan quickly turned his head around to face the television, pretending like he hadn't been watching for them. Despite himself, Danny gave a wry smile. Dash gave his friend a displeased look. They sat down on either side of Kwan, watching as he channel-surfed through the hundreds of channels they received.

"So … what did you guys talk about?" Kwan asked without taking his eyes off the flickering screen.

"Nothing," they replied in unison. Kwan's eyes darted between them.

"Did you work everything out?"

"There was nothing to work out," Dash said in an irritated voice.

Kwan allowed a small smile at the way his friend spoke.

"So, Danny, are you coming to Paulina's party tomorrow?" he asked, and raised his eyebrows when Danny said "No," on his right as Dash said "Yes," on his left. They glared at each other again.

"No, I'm not," Danny enunciated.

"Yes, you are," Dash said just as firmly.

They immediately started bickering. Kwan leaned back into the couch, watching in something akin to fascination as they leaned forward to growl at each other in front of his frame.

"You said that you were going to make this work," Dash said accusatorily.

"No, I didn't, I said I would stop avoiding you," Danny scoffed. "That doesn't mean I have to go to that party."

"Oh, what are you whining about, Fenton, going to it will still be the best thing you did all through high school," Dash sneered.

Whatever they had planned to say to each other next was cut short as Kwan pressed his open palms against their faces, exasperated. "You two need to stop," he said, seeing the shock written on their faces. "Since I got here, all I've seen is you two at each others throats."

Dash pushed Kwan's arm away. "Whatever," he muttered. Danny pulled away as well, and the two of them continued to watch the show silently, leaning to the edges of the couch so that they were as far from each other as possible.

"You're going to that party," Dash said.

Danny opened his mouth to object but Kwan quickly placed his hand over it again.

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"And tell me exactly why you don't want to go to Paulina's party again?" Tucker couldn't believe his ears.

"Obviously, he's seen the light and come to his senses," Sam sounded proud. "Good for you, Danny,"

Danny scowled. "No," he said over the phone. After Kwan and Dash had left for the day, he had called Tucker and Sam to come over. Unfortunately, as Tucker was meant to follow his family to dinner that night and Sam was waiting for an important phone call – "is it from _Winston_?" Tucker had asked, rather insensitively, to which Sam had insisted "No!" loudly – they couldn't make it. "It's just that the less I see of Dash, the better."

"Remind me again what it was that Dash did to you that was so bad?" Tucker asked. "You went from loving him to hating his guts again pretty quickly." To his annoyance, Danny found his face heating up at Tucker's words.

"Nothing," he brushed it off quickly. "Just, you know, didn't want to get too close, he's not the best guy to have around, and I'm kind of sick of seeing him around, you know." He said it so quickly and his voice lowered with embarrassment as he said it so that that the words came out quite slurred.

There was a moment of silence.

"Uh, okay," Sam said awkwardly.

More to get them off the topic than anything else, Danny said, "Hey, Sam, if you're expecting a call, aren't we holding you up?"

"No," Sam replied. "They won't call for about another half-hour."

"'They'? Who are _'they'_?" Danny tossed himself on his bed carelessly, cordless phone pressed against his ear.

"Oh," Sam sounded a bit nervous, "um, a rep from Princeton is going to have a phone interview with me at nine. It's part of the requirement for my acceptance."

Danny didn't say anything. Somehow, even though the fact that he had missed his chance with Sam, and that she was going away to college had been omnipresent in his mind, he had managed to push the fact that it was going to happen soon away.

He chewed his lip. "Well, good luck," he said, hoping to sound indifferent.

"Thanks," Sam said.

There was another pause.

"So, Tuck, why are you going out with your parents?" Danny asked.

Tucker hesitated. "I got an acceptance letter today," he said apologetically. "My parents want to celebrate."

Danny blinked. "Oh!" he said lightly, trying his best to sound happy. "That's great! That's really great!" He faltered.

"Thanks," Tucker said uncomfortably. "It's just this lame thing, they want to make a big deal, something about cherishing family dinners and stuff like that—"

"No, no, that's great," Danny assured. "Um, where to?"

"Just that fancy restaurant downtown with all the menus in French and English subtitles," Tucker replied.

"No, I mean which school was it?"

"Oh," Tucker said. "University of Chicago."

"That's really great news, Tuck," Sam said. "Congratulations."

"Yeah, great news," Danny echoed.

"Yeah," Tucker said. "Listen, my dad's calling, and I don't want to keep them waiting, so..."

"Yeah, okay," Danny said quietly.

"I'd better go too, Danny," Sam told him. "My parents want to rehearse some possible questions the rep's going to use with them before he or she calls—"

"Oh, yeah, great," Danny said quickly. Why couldn't he stop repeating that word? "Good luck."

"Thanks," they said before hanging up.

It took a few seconds for the smile Danny had forced on his face to slide off. "Great," he repeated, feeling suddenly robbed. "Really great."

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Despite his claims that he did not want to attend the party, when he opened his closet the next day to pick out something appropriate, Danny couldn't help feeling a small tingle of excitement. This was dampened soon enough by the fact that he couldn't find anything he wanted to wear.

His eyes fell on the outfit he had worn last time – a week ago; it felt like a lifetime since then – and he gave a little shudder. He didn't want to make _that_ mistake again.

This meant having to go to the mall. Immediately, he thought of calling Tucker and Sam; he had left the cordless phone in his room, having stared up at the ceiling for hours after his last phone call, and had drifted off to sleep before returning it to the kitchen, but the thought of hanging out with them so soon afterwards made him feel as though his stomach were made of ice.

'Still,' he thought, 'they'd probably kill me if I didn't call to ask how their night went.' His hand had halfway reached the phone when he decided better of it and pulled it back. He wasn't that interested in finding out how excited they were about leaving Amity Park, or how well Sam's phone interview with Princeton had been. They were crazy if they thought he was going to call.

He went downstairs, and to the kitchen where his parents were enjoying a late breakfast. "Don't you guys have to go to work?" he asked.

"Hey, inventors need days off too," his father said cheerily.

"Right," Danny replied. He placed the phone back on the receiver. "I'm going to the mall," he told them in an offhanded kind of way.

"Alright," his mother said. "Are you going to have lunch there?"

Danny checked his watch. "Probably," he replied. "And I'm going to a party later. A friend's picking me up."

"What time?" his dad asked.

Danny hadn't bothered to ask Dash what time the party was, or if he was in fact going to pick him up at all. He had just assumed that it would be like it was last week.

"About nine, I guess," he said. "See you."

Walking to his car, he sent a message to Dash's cellphone, telling him that he had to be picked up if he was to go to the party, and asked what time did Dash plan to come. He had only just started the engine when his phone beeped, and he opened the message. It just read "9". Danny smirked and pulled out.

Driving there, Danny wasn't able to keep his worries down; Dash was his ride to the party and back. All though it wasn't likely for the events that took place last week to happen again, it still didn't mean that Dash would not be expecting to stay over. What if they got home really late and the blonde decided it would be easier to just stay over at the Fenton residence than to drive back home?

'It's a small town,' Danny told himself. If Dash wanted to stay over at his place, he could simply remind him that his own house wasn't too far away. It was a little cold, but then again, he and Dash had always been cold to each other before this.

When he entered the parking lot, he drove around trying to find an available spot. Finally, he spotted a car pulling out, and tapped his fingers impatiently.

'I feel like a girl,' he thought to himself while pulling shirts off the rack. He couldn't believe that he was buying yet another outfit for a party. He couldn't help it though; nothing he owned looked suitable for a rich kid's party. And were they ever rich. He remembered the fine clothes some of them had worn and remembered thinking how it must have cost a fortune.

A few attempts later, Danny found a shirt that was within his budget and passable. As he went to the counter to pay for it, he found that he wasn't quite sure what made the shirt better than the rest; it looked like a typical dress-up shirt, but seemed to be of better quality than anything he currently owned, which he supposed, made all the difference.

Feeling slightly emasculated, he walked out of the shop, still cringing at the slight smirk the female cashier had given him as she bagged his purchase, and wandered to his right, in the direction of the food court. He doubled back, however, when he spotted a familiar figure in the crowd. Kwan was standing there with his hands inside his pockets casually, back turned to Danny, though the ghost-boy could still see his profile.

"Kwan!" he greeted, walking over to him. Kwan turned his head in the direction of his call. Danny frowned when he saw the bigger boy mask the intense look on his face. "Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing," Kwan said in a casual voice. "Just hanging out. What are you doing here?"

Danny held up the plastic bag in his hand in response. "For tonight's party."

"Oh," Kwan nodded.

"I was just about to get something to eat, do you want to come?" Danny offered.

"Sure, I suppose," Kwan shrugged.

They weren't in any hurry, so the two of them walked slowly in silence. Danny's eyes darted around, taking in the sight and also keeping an eye on Kwan. When they reached the food court, Danny went to order a chili dog, while Kwan stood beside him dourly. Danny turned to him.

"Aren't you going to order anything?" he asked.

"No," Kwan replied.

'Another mystery.' Danny recalled when Kwan had refused to drink anything at Paulina's party last week. Was he going off food? If so, why? "Have a drink at least," he insisted.

"I'm really not—" Kwan stopped his protests when he saw the look on his friend's face. "Fine," he sighed, "I'll just have a soda." He pointed to one of the selections. The guy behind the stand, who looked to be in his early twenties, gave a curt nod and went to fill their orders. He came back with a tray bearing a slightly steaming chili dog for Danny, and a cup of soda for each of them. Danny paid the man, and carried the tray over to the first available table he found.

Through the meal, Danny kept his eyes on Kwan, who sipped at the drink sparingly.

"What?" Kwan frowned at him.

Danny shook his head and looked down at the hot dog in his hands hurriedly. "Nothing," he said. Kwan didn't reply.

"So, do you need a ride back?" he asked. "Because I brought my car."

"No, thanks," Kwan replied. "I'll find my way back."

Danny nodded again. The silence was highly disconcerting.

"Well," he squirmed a little in his chair, "I guess I'll go then. Got some stuff to do before the party."

"Yes," Kwan replied vaguely. "See you."

Walking away, Danny whipped out his cellphone and wrote quick messages to Sam and Tucker.

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Sam had been highly displeased to find out that this was what Danny had dragged her out of bed on Saturday for.

"It was almost two in the afternoon when I messaged you!" Danny cried defensively.

"Yeah, but you know how much I cherish my Saturday sleep," Sam said crossly. "And I had a late night last night."

Danny deflated a bit. He took that to mean that Sam's interview had gone well. Of course, a little voice told him, it could also have meant that it went _horribly_ and she had stayed up all night until she passed out from exhaustion after crying her eyes out.

"So how did your interview go?" he asked, a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

"Great," Sam folded her arms. "My grandmother and I celebrated after it was done."

Danny's bad mood returned.

"And what about you?" he almost barked at Tucker, who was lying on his bed with one leg tossed carelessly over the other. "Did you have a late night celebrating too?"

"No, not too much," Tucker replied, unfazed. "I did spend some time going through the university website after dinner though."

"Getting back to the question at hand," Sam said pointedly, drawing Danny's attention back to her, "what's the big deal about Kwan this time?"

Danny stared up at her. "I – he – I don't know, he was creepy!" he said.

Sam rolled her eyes disgustedly. "Not this again," she said.

"I am serious here," Danny asserted.

"Okay," Sam leaned against the dressing table, arms crossed over her chest, staring down at Danny, who was leaning forward in his chair, "tell me, what is it that Kwan did that was so wrong?"

He was really starting to hate these types of questions. What had he done, really, to warrant such mistrust in his judgment from his friends?

"You weren't there," he said. "It wasn't just what he said—"

"You mean it was the way he said it?" Tucker supplied.

"It was the whole atmosphere of it," Danny clarified. "You should have seen the way he talked, and acted."

"Okay, and how did he talk and act?" Sam was still unconvinced.

"You had to be there," Danny said stubbornly.

Sam closed her eyes. "Danny, we've been through a lot of stuff together, so believe me when I tell you this—" she leaned forward gripped either sides of his chair, drawing close, "—you are being really stupid right now. Instead of focusing on what Kwan may be up to, why don't you go into the Ghost Zone and see what Walker is up to? I can't believe you've gone this long without checking up on the situation with Bullet."

"Walker said not to disturb him until he cracked Bullet and that he would come see me when he did," Danny reminded her.

"Oh, and that's all it takes to get you to trust him?" Sam asked.

Danny didn't reply. The truth was, he was sick of ghosts. He knew it was irresponsible for him to leave the situation in Walker's hands, completely unsupervised, but since Vlad had entrusted his ghost half with him, he had been bombarded with their attacks, and was tired of having to deal with it. The confusion and the drama he currently had going on with Dash, as sick as it was to say it, a kind of relief, being able to get in touch with his human life, and awful though the situation was, he felt reluctant to shelve it away to go back into the Ghost Zone again and find out what was going on.

"Fine," he replied. "I'll go check."

Sam gave a firm nod.

"After the party," he added.

She blew a lock of hair out of her face, irritated. "Fine," she said. "I don't get why you don't care about this, but fine." Danny pressed his feet against the floor and pushed the chair a few inches away from her hold.

Sam straightened up. "Well, if you're getting ready for the party, maybe we should just go," she said.

"The party's not for another six hours," Danny said.

"Maybe, but we know you need to start working on that beauty regimen," Sam smirked. Danny gave her a look that clearly said he didn't find it funny.

"Stay with me for a while," he requested. He looked at Tucker. "Please?" Right now, the only thing he wanted was to spend as much time with them as possible. All year they'd been drifting further away, getting caught up with their own lives; now with their futures that much more secure, it was more clear to Danny now than ever that he had to hold on to his friends as long as he had them and make the most of it.

Sam and Tucker shared a look, and Danny could tell that his appeal had softened them somewhat.

"Oh, alright then," Sam said fondly. "What are you going to wear to the party?"

Danny gave a slow smile. "You know what? I don't really want to talk about the party right now."

"Really?" Tucker raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Danny said nonchalantly. "Seems like all I do anymore is talk about the popular kids." He grinned. "Why don't we start planning our hike up to Castle's Point instead?"

Tucker let out a loud groan at the mention of the word 'hike'. Danny and Sam snickered, and dug for some paper and a pen to make their inventory.

They worked all the way through the afternoon, making jokes, teasing each other, tossing ideas on what would make the trip absolutely perfect. It was the best time Danny had had with his friends in a long time.

"Can't you just fly us up there?" Tucker asked.

"_No!_" Danny and Sam exclaimed together, sharing a grin. "The aching legs is all part of the experience."

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Experience, he says," he muttered. He reached down into his pocket when his cellphone rang. "Hello?"

The other two watched as his brow furrowed in confusion when he tried to make sense of what the person on the other end of the line was saying. "What?"

There was another pause, and Tucker said uncertainly, "Oh … alright. Yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there." He hung up the phone. "That was my mother," he said. "They're waiting for me to get home. There's some sort of celebration going on."

"I thought you guys celebrated last night," Danny pointed out.

"Yeah, but they invited the rest of the family over," Tucker said. "They wanted to throw me a surprise party, and my mom wants me to get home because they're all waiting."

He scrambled to his feet, Danny and Sam doing the same to follow him to the door. "Sorry, guys, we'll have to finish this another time."

"Don't worry about it," Sam assured. They went downstairs together. "Can you get home okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Tucker said absent-mindedly. "See you tomorrow, or something."

He departed, and Danny and Sam were left standing by the open door in silence. Danny cleared his throat.

"So, uh," Sam started.

"Yeah," Danny resisted the urge to shuffle his feet.

"I guess I'd better be going home too," Sam excused herself. "And you'd better be getting ready for the party. Dash will be here in less than hour."

"Right," Danny nodded, pulling the door open wider for her. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Or something," Sam quipped. Danny smiled.

Danny bit the inside of cheek for almost a full minute after she turned the corner before closing the door. He checked the clock and cringed.

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When Dash arrived, Danny's hair had hardly even dried yet. The jock signaled his arrival by honking the car's powerful horn twice.

"Danny, I'm not quite sure I approve of this," his mother frowned, peeking out the curtains. "He's not even getting out of the car."

"Aw, come on, Maddie," Jack chided her. "He's just giving Danny a ride to the party. It's not like they're going on a date or anything."

The comb leapt out of Danny's hand and clattered to the floor. He quickly bent down and picked it up again, visibly flustered. His parents didn't notice.

"Know what time you're getting back, son?" Jack asked, joining his wife by the window and peeking out at the jock waiting coolly in his car.

"No," Danny said truthfully.

"Atta boy," Jack winked, giving Danny a nudge in the shoulder. Maddie giggled.

"Have fun, Danny," she chirped.

"I will mom," he replied tonelessly.

Dash kept his eyes on Danny when he slid into the passenger seat, and they flickered to the window, where Jack and Maddie Fenton were still watching them dotingly.

"Um..."

"Please, don't ask," Danny muttered. Dash turned his head back to face the road and turned on the engine. Danny waved goodbye to his parents as they sped off.

There was a tense silence between them. Dash, Danny saw, kept trying to catch his eye, obviously not comfortable with it, but Danny relished it. He had no desire to speak to Dash, and even if he did, Tucker and Sam's abrupt departure earlier left him with little desire to talk.

"Nice shirt," Dash commented. Danny grunted in response.

Clearly put out by this, he drove without making any further attempts to communicate.

There seemed to be even more people at the party than there were last week, if the number of cars parked around the vicinity was any indication. Danny checked his watch; it wasn't even nine-thirty. Weren't these people supposed to be fashionably late?

Thankfully, after circling the block once they found one of the cars directly across the Sanchez residence pulling out, and immediately claimed the spot. Dash parked and they got out and walked to the house side-by-side without looking at or speaking to each other.

The first thing Danny noticed when they got to the porch was the huge hairline crack running up the wall on the left. Both he and Dash spared glances at it, then the taller boy knocked on the door. It opened after a moment's delay to reveal Paulina looking exquisite in a light pink slinky dress.

"Hello," she greeted them enthusiastically, a seductive smile on her lips.

"Hey, Paulina," Dash greeted with a small smile on his face. Danny raised his hand to give a small wave. The tingle of excitement he had felt about the party when he had been looking for something to wear that afternoon had all but dissolved entirely.

Paulina allowed them in. Danny looked around and noticed people, most of whom he had seen at last week's party, milling about talking and laughing. No one had started to dance yet though; he supposed it must have been too early.

'Doesn't this girl have parents?' he felt a twinge of annoyance. He had no idea why he felt this bad, but the party and the popular kids were seriously starting to get on his nerves. "Where are your folks, anyway?" he asked.

Paulina raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "They're out," she said. "Why do you care?"

Danny shrugged. "Just asking."

"Don't be a loser, Fenton," he heard Dash mutter beside him.

Danny ignored him.

"Drinks are over there," Paulina nodded to a large table. Again, the punch bowl was out, but unlike last time, no one was milling about it. Instead, Danny saw his classmates reaching for cups and filling them with—

"Vodka?" Dash offered as they reached the table.

Danny gazed at the bottle half-full of clear liquid before him. He had tried drinking before of course, but those feeble experiments had consisted of him, Sam and Tucker hanging out in the park with the six-pack of beer Sam had sneaked out of her house. Her parents, upper-crust WASPs that they were, kept the house well-stocked with various kinds of alcohol which they kept vigilant eyes on, combined with the fact that all three of them were underage and therefore could not buy their own liquor, and as self-appointed protectors of the ghost-ridden town who couldn't afford to be caught without their wits, meant that beer was about as far as the three of them had ever gone before.

Guiltily Danny reflected back on his promise to his friends to keep an eye out for trouble tonight so that nothing would go wrong. Hating himself, he shook his head at Dash's offer.

Dash shrugged, and poured himself a shot, and downed it in one go. People close by cheered loudly for their quarterback. Unnoticed, Danny quietly slipped past the crowd that was beginning to gather.

As the party went on, Danny continued to refrain himself from the proceedings by walking around the house, eyeing the little possessions that decorated the place, shaking his head politely when some random jock or cheerleader called for him to join them.

Eventually, however, he grew bored of distracting himself with such things – Paulina's mother, he discovered, had a surprisingly tacky taste – and decided to step outside for some fresh air. His ears pricked up at once to better catch the sound of thunderous steps belonging to gigantic ghosts, but all was still.

He shivered slightly and released cold breath. It was past eleven now, he had wasted the whole party away. Glumly, he folded his arms, burying his hands in the crook of each arm, and crossed the street to lean against the car.

It was only a couple of minutes later that an orange glow bathed him when Paulina's front door opened and Dash stepped outside. Spotting Danny, he walked over to him. "Hey," he said. Danny raised his head in greeting. Dash surveyed how he stood against the car. "You know we're not leaving yet, right?" he asked.

"I know," Danny replied, but did not move away. Dash nodded. Danny was very impressed by how steady the blonde was on his feet after all that drinking. He had not even seen Dash wobble as he crossed the street to meet him. "You must have incredibly high tolerance," he complimented.

Dash gave him a wry grin. "I didn't drink as much as you thought I did."

"Really?" Danny was genuinely surprised to hear that. In order to avoid temptation, he had done his best not to watch the other kids around the drinks, but had assumed that they had all been downing shots as Dash had done with that first drink of vodka.

"Really," Dash confirmed. "It's freezing out here."

"I know."

Dash pulled out from within his coat a box of cigarettes and a lighter. He opened the box and offered it to Danny. Danny stared.

"I didn't know you smoke."

"Not often," Dash's hand retracted a quarter of an inch. "I can't get into the habit if I want to be on the team." He pulled out a stick, and lit it up, taking a drag, holding it a moment, his eyes half-lidded and fixated on Danny, who was watching him back with a look he couldn't quite place, a mixture of demureness and something else, the smile of his face somewhat bashful but something darker he couldn't yet place. He breathed out, smoke blowing in Danny's direction, who turned slightly away so that it did not blow directly into his face, though his eyes drifted to the edges so that they were still on him.

Danny reached out and plucked the cigarette out of his limp fingers. He brought the stick to his lips and took a puff, and blew it out.

"Not bad," Dash remarked. He had thought the boy would choke. Danny gave him a half-grin.

"You're not the only one who's tried stuff out," he said.

"Manson's influence, right?" Dash took the cigarette back. Danny shook his head slowly.

"Valerie's," he corrected. "Sam's Goth. She's not stupid."

Dash grinned.

The coyness had slipped out of Danny's face entirely now and he watched Dash with an appraising look o his face. They stood there so close to each other, sharing the cigarette between them in the cold air. The wall that had been between them earlier was gone, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to appreciate Dash's magnificent form. Frostbite's words returned to him, 'The matters of the heart aren't so easy to deal with,' but for the first time, the insinuation didn't feel like a crushing blow to him.

Dash for his part found the look he had earlier been unable to identify on Danny's face earlier become clearer with each passing second. He recognized it now for some vague form of passion, not lust, or he would have known it from the beginning. It was a kind of wanton gaze.

Danny leaned against the car again more than before, as though pasting himself against it, the look on his eyes still so incredibly intense. Dash moved forward to give him the cigarette but halfway there it was half-forgotten. Danny didn't move away – not that there was much space to maneuver in anyway, and growing smaller all the time.

Brazenly, Danny placed his hand on Dash's hip. Dash placed his hand over it, and with only a momentary second thought, flicked the cigarette to the ground. Danny made an annoyed little sound; he had still wanted to take another drag. In a moment though, it was forgotten, when Dash cupper his other hand in his and brought them up to Danny's forehead where they brushed away the hair that had fallen to his eye. The two of them were pressed up against the car now, their legs spread so that they rested comfortably. Dash inhaled deeply, feeling one of Danny's leg against his stirring crotch.

Danny's lips were slightly parted, and his breaths were louder too. Directing the brunette's hand, still cupped within his own, away from the spot it had been to rest against the hood of the car. Their faces drew closer together than ever before, and after a moment, Dash leaned forward, and Danny tilted his head slightly, and their lips met.

Though he had never thought about what it would have been like, the kiss seemed to somehow be completely different from anything Danny had expected. There was no surge of electricity, and there were no explosions or fireworks. The only thing that was there was absolute silence, the feeling of Dash's lips against his own somehow more muted than he thought a kiss would have been, with occasional throbbing running through his body.

He felt Dash's lips open, and opened his own slightly more as well. Dash's thin lips rose to Danny's top lip and closed over it. It was only when Dash's lips parted open again that Danny's breath escaped him.

He arched into Dash's body when he felt his calloused hands wrapped around him, clasping together around his back. He let out a small moan.

Dash's lips drifted from his own and to his right cheeks, pressing a soft one right next to his lip, then trailing downwards with butterfly kisses until he reached Danny's neck. Danny's hands reached up, running his fingers through Dash's gelled-back hair as the blonde busied himself against Danny's throat, between pulses and veins, slanting his head to an almost horizontal angle and then back again. Their erections pressed against the other's leg. Finally, Dash couldn't take it any longer, and changed his angle to that their bodies were more aligned, their hard lengths touching through the material of their pants.

And just like that, the kiss grew all the more urgent. Their heads practically touched, but for the opportunity it presented him, Dash didn't lean for a kiss, mostly because his body was – almost involuntarily at this point – grinding against Danny, his knees bending and then straightening again as he went up and down, the both of them feeling pleasure emanating from every part of them, especially between their legs where it all seemed to stem from.

Danny's breathing was cracked, and his brain was broken, it seemed, for it was barely comprehensible to him that just a few hours ago, just a few _minutes_ ago he had been cold towards this man, and now here was being moved into positions by him as though he were boneless. With what little presence of mind he had left, he murmured into Dash's ear, "Not here." His hand dropped from the roof limply to his side and then fumbled for a few seconds before phasing through the metal and unlocking the door manually from the inside, then pulling it open.

Dash and he stumbled back, still attached to each other, and then Dash was pushing him backwards until they fell into the backseat.

Danny pulled himself further inside by the elbows, his already overly-sensitized body tingling even more as it dragged against the feel of Dash's body on top of him and the upholstery below. Dash crawled in after him, closing the door loudly. At the sound, a muscle in Danny's cheek twitched, as though common sense had been trying to jolt its way back into his brain, but the next moment, Dash had put his arm around Danny's shoulder and stared into his eyes, as though he must have known what the brunette was thinking and was waiting for him to make the next move, and Danny felt the unbelievable chemistry between them surge through his veins and into his head again.

Dash did nothing, so this time Danny was the one who leaned forward, closing his eyes, and captured the athlete's lips with his own. At the feel of Danny's lips pressed against his own again, Dash visibly relaxed and sank into the kiss. It started out slow again, as though they were starting all over, but the need they had just felt a moment ago had not dissipated in the least. Within moments, the kisses became as frantic as they had been before they had entered the car. As they clashed against each other, Danny could feel Dash's fingers ghosting about his skin at the hem of his shirt and a thigh.

There was so little air in the world he thought he would die.

Like he were a rag doll, Dash gripped his hips tightly – so much so he thought that finger-shaped bruises may have been left there – and hoisted him to sit on his strong parted legs. Danny's lips were swollen and bruised, and he was panting. He was sure he must have looked a sight.

Dash pulled him in for another round of kisses, one firm hand holding him in place by the back of his head, and the other fumbling around for the zipper to his pants and sliding it down before digging inside past his boxers. Danny let out a cry, breaking apart from Dash's crushing kisses when he felt the strong hand wrap around his rigid piece.

He didn't open his eyes, afraid now more than ever that anything he did would break this, whatever this was, and for as long as he had been fighting against it, he never wanted it to end. His sweaty forehead rested against Dash's damp one, the both of them breathing and so close to each other; Danny felt the other man's hot breath touch him.

His body shuddered as he felt Dash's hand, so different from his own, caressing him, stroking in an upwards motion and flicking his thumb around the head of Danny's cock that caused him to let out an involuntary shout of pleasure the first time he felt it and several times thereafter.

Though he had promised himself not to, Danny couldn't resist opening his eyes. Dash's face was still so close by, still connected to him as their foreheads touched. His light blue eyes seemed slightly unfocused with pleasure, darkened, and his eyes were sort of half-lidded. He seemed to be trying to stare at Danny's face while staring at the stroking motions his hand was doing at the same time.

Danny's hips bucked involuntarily, and forced him to shift a little bit closer in Dash's lap, where he felt the hardness still trapped in those confining jeans completely ignored while Dash paid his attentions on him. Danny drew in a harsh breath to steel himself against what he was about to do; his tongue darted out to wet his lips and extended far enough to briefly touch Dash's own top lip as well. Determinedly, he reached one hand, which he found had been wrapped around Dash's neck all this while, down to the fly of his jeans, and undid it.

Danny's then fished around inside until he found what he was looking for. He let out a shaky breath when he felt it, running his fingertip hesitantly down the length of it, the others cupping and feeling his balls. Dash's breath hitched, and for a moment stopped moving, and then Danny pulled it out, three fingers delicately making a pumping action then went about a quarter of an inch. Resolving his mind, he wrapped his fingers around it firmly and began to stroke it in a way that he had grown well-practiced in over the years. He wanted to make Dash feel as good as he was feeling right now.

Dash let out a guttural moan, and Danny felt the edges of a smirk on his face. Dash leaned his head forwards and kissed him again. Using this momentary distraction, he pulled Danny even closer to him so that their cocks brushed up against one another. This sensation brought Danny's attention back to the matter at hand, and he glanced down.

Dash had grown inspired from their actions earlier before entering the car. Keeping his eyes focused on Danny's, he reached between them and gripped first himself and then the other boy. Danny's face flushed with lustful pleasure as he let out a moan of appreciation and approval when he felt the combined pleasure of this new act.

Dash breathed harshly, arching his back against the car seat. Danny, without thinking, joined Dash in his stroking, wrapping his hand around the both of them, and around Dash's fist slightly too, fully encompassing them as Dash had been unable to do by himself.

Sweat trickled down their bodies, the car with its windows drawn up threatening to suffocate them. The two of them no longer pressed their foreheads together, and as a result, one of the sweat beads from Danny's forehead dropped down to land upon the heads of their sexes, resting there as they slowly pumped, serving to underscore the filthiness of the situation. Danny found it sexier than he ever thought he would as the sweat drop that had come from him previously was shaken and forced off the tips of their organs to roll down the shafts and onto their fingers as their thrusts increased as they got closer and closer to their breaking points.

They didn't speak, but each felt close to the point. Danny and Dash looked back at each other as their hands kept moving together like a well-timed machine. Danny reached his breaking point first, tossing his head back and letting out a soft groan as he climaxed. This stimulated Dash to pump even faster, which not only caused Danny's orgasm to feel all the more intense, but also to have his body rack with pleasure when he felt Dash's continued stimulations on his sensitive organ. Soon after, Dash groaned with release too, his seed spilling over their hands as Danny's had done, some shots going off a little bit.

The two boys remained in their positions, huffing and trying to recover after the intensity of what had happened. Danny's throat felt dry, and Dash looked worn out. Not completely sure if it was acceptable to do so, Danny slumped forward, taking care to avoid their sticky hands, still wrapped together, their flaccid penises still exposed, neither taking the initiative to fix themselves up. As soon as his head touched Dash's shoulder, Dash's unstained hand came to wrap around his shoulder, and Dash pressed a faint kiss to his temple.

Unknown to them, as they had fallen into the car and locked themselves in, they had been watched from afar.

"Isn't that sweet?" Paulina cooed from her balcony a small smile playing on her lips. "It's like a fairytale."

Kwan stood next to her, gazing at the slightly rocking car a bit more apprehensively. "Does this sort of thing happen very often in fairytales?" he asked skeptically.

Paulina paused a moment to consider, a finger on her lips. "I think they do in the Anne Rice versions," she offered.

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Author's Note: I'm sorry I took so long with this update. I figured I had been posting chapters so often that I deserved to have a little break in between, so I took a nice long one and enjoyed the beginning of 2007. To all of you, I know I'm over two months late, but Happy New Year!

I hope you're happy with this update, it's my longest chapter yet. I would gladly appreciate reviews, and thanks everyone who reviewed all the previous chapters.

I think I made this chapter quite discreet considering the raise in rating. I'm a bit nervous considering previous ban on NC-17 stories, I'm not entirely sure how the M rating differs from that. I have seen stories on here before where sex scenes have been described, so I assume it's allowed. If anyone has any points they would like to clarify for me regarding this topic, I would greatly appreciate it, because I don't want to risk this story getting banned and deleted. Thanks for your help.


	19. Now That I Have Found You

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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Danny breathed in deeply, gave a small grunt, curled his toes, and opened his eyes wide. He smiled. He couldn't remember the last time he had had such a good sleep. Sunlight flowed into his room through the light curtains, and he imagined that he could hear birds chirping.

Turning to his other side, he gave a wry smirk when he saw Dash's sleeping form there. The jock wasn't shirtless as he had been last week when he had first started this routine of sleeping over at Danny's house, but his plain black shirt had ridden up, exposing that taut, lean stomach Danny seemed to love so. The blanket had been pushed down to only cover his lower-half, so Danny had a nice full view of the bare skin to enjoy.

As Dash rested, his body moving up and down with every inhalation, Danny wondered what had happened to his resistance and the feelings of shame he had felt about this whole situation before had gone. They seemed to have vanished the moment Dash had kissed him. He had never though that he could have enjoyed a kiss that much – which was saying something, because he used to live for Valerie's kisses and had reminisced fondly many times over the fakeout-makeout sessions Sam and he had been forced to indulge in. How was it that each time he had gone to the popular crowd's party, he had ended up closer to Dash than he ever thought possible of himself, and enjoyed each single moment of it? Briefly he toyed with the possibility of Paulina spraying drugs into the air before her parties.

Dash's eyes fluttered open. Danny remained in his position, looking into them. They were slightly glazed, and Dash squeezed them shut tightly letting out a small yawn before opening them again. They blinked at each other, holding on to their respective pillows under their heads.

"Hey," Dash rasped.

"Hey," Danny said softly.

Dash pushed himself to sit up, one hand firmly on the mattress, the other rubbing one of his eyes. "What are you looking at?"

Danny pulled himself to a sitting position on the bed as well, his arms wrapped around his knees, which jutted out under the cover of the blankets. "You," he admitted.

Dash turned his head to look at him. Danny liked the way the sunlight made Dash's eyes look, as though they had a little bit of a sparkle in them. He grinned embarrassedly about the way he was thinking, but he couldn't help it. He felt happier and giddier than he could ever remember. Dash was looking at him with a smug, triumphant look, and he appeared to pause for a moment before leaning down and capturing Danny's lips with his for a soft kiss.

When he pulled away, Danny found that he couldn't stop grinning, even by biting his lip – all that accomplished was having the thought 'Dash just kissed me on this lip' streak through his mind – and to his utter horror even let slip what sounded like a girlish giggle.

Dash chuckled as Danny lay back in his bed, reaching to pull the pillow over his face, pulling him by the wrist to face him as he lay down as well, and began kissing him over and over again.

Danny wrapped his arms around Dash, trying to keep up with those fast lips and that skilled tongue that obviously knew just when to dart out and where to lick. He was melting.

With a small moan, he pulled away from Dash. Almost involuntarily, Dash leaned in a bit again, as if his lips were seeking out the lost sensation.

Danny smiled to himself. "I think we need to talk."

Dash scrunched up his eyes, looking about as eager for this conversation as Danny felt, but as good as it felt to just keep on kissing, Danny knew that he had to find out what was going on first. "Alright, alright," Dash propped himself up with one hand.

Danny gave him an incredulous stare and let out a short laugh. Dash raised an eyebrow.

"You – you're not even concerned, are you?" Danny asked. "About what happened?"

Dash simply tilted his head, his expression unreadable. It seemed that he was going to make Danny work to get an answer out of him. Danny let out an annoyed little sound.

"_Well_?" he pressed.

"Well, what?" Dash asked blithely. "From what I recall, you were into too."

Danny snorted. Yes, he had been into it, that was true – but that didn't mean it hadn't taken a lot of thinking and rethinking to get to this point; once it had happened, he had let go of all his reservations and allowed himself to float. But Dash didn't seem to have had any reservations at all, and though he still hadn't come down from the high he had been on since that first kiss, Danny still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Dash, who could very well have been the most macho big man on campus in the history of Casper High, could have been interested in this sort of thing without any sort of qualms of his own.

"I know I was," Danny couldn't resist running a blunt nail against a vein on the pale underside of Dash's arm. "I still am," he admitted, surprising even himself. He looked up at Dash. Dash was watching him, waiting for him to continue. "And I'm dealing with it," Danny finished.

Dash still didn't say anything, but Danny thought he saw a subtle shift in his face. "So how are you so comfortable with it," he asked.

Dash gave a tiny shrug, and just when Danny had been about to give up all hope on getting any sort of explanation, he replied, "It's not very new ground with me."

Danny straightened up, shock apparent on his face. He wasn't sure he had heard right. Dash pulled himself up to a sitting position as well.

"Not new ground?" Danny said thickly.

Dash chewed on the inside of his cheek. "No, not really," he said. "I mean, since I was, like, twelve—"

"Since you were _twelve_?"

"Or thirteen," Dash rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"With whom?" Danny questioned.

"Kwan."

"_Kwan?_"

"Yes," Dash said impatiently. "I mean, it was just the small things, when we were just figuring this stuff out. You've been friends with Tucker Foley since we were in grade school, haven't you ever …"

"No!" Danny pulled back, his mouth a ridiculous 'o'. His mind was racing. Did Dash actually consider it to be normal to do these kinds of things with one's friends?

Apparently, he did. "Seriously?" Dash raised his eyebrows. "Not even a kiss?"

"_No!_" Danny raised his voice.

Dash grinned that smug little grin of his again. The other boy's obvious revulsion towards the idea amused him, and he decided to have a little fun. "Not even," his voice dropped to a teasing yet somewhat seductive level, "a little suggestive touching?" His fingers found their way to Danny's arm and crawled upwards along the path highlighted by a vein.

"_No._" Danny shrugged him off. Dash's grin grew wider. Danny gave him a dark look. "Shut up."

"Make me," he teased.

Danny looked torn, as though half of him wanted to run away and the other half wanted to take him up on his challenge. His lower lip was pouted and there was still that indignant look on his face.

"Come on, Fenton," Dash said, barely audibly.

Danny threw the offended expression off his face and leaned in to kiss Dash on the lips. The moment he felt the brunette, Dash reached out his hands, wrapping them around Danny's back, and pulling him in until they both fell back on the bed, Danny's slender form on top of his own broader one, still kissing.

A few moments passed as both lost themselves in the kisses, but then a shadow of sense made its way back into Danny's brain and he pulled away again. Dash let out a slight groan of frustration. Danny ignored it.

"So you and Kwan have been doing this for years, right?" he inquired.

Dash sighed. "No?" he said, as though it were obvious. Danny gave him a skeptical look. Dash balanced himself on his forearms.

"I told you," he said, "we were figuring stuff out, and we experimented."

"And that's it?" Danny didn't believe him.

Dash shrugged absently. "Well, we did it for a long time. It took time to get used to the idea of trying stuff out to each other, and then we went from the kissing to the—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Danny pulled his head back as though to signify that he had no desire to hear what they had progressed to.

Dash curled his lip. "Well if you don't want to hear it, can we just go back to making out?"

"Can't you tell me about it without getting into the gory details?" Danny asked.

"No," Dash said, then in his relentless urge to tease him, added, "did you know 'gory' can be rearranged into 'orgy'?"

Danny's face twisted comically, and Dash burst into laughter. He reached upwards and gave Danny another soft kiss, then pulled back again to wait for his response.

Danny was tempted to resume their make-out session, but his curiosity about Dash and Kwan's relationship and how Dash became so comfortable with doing such things with men overwhelmed his temptation.

Dash could see that he wasn't going to win this one just yet. "We went from kissing to touching to … more touching," he continued. "And we pretty much did it until we started going further with girls, and then we pretty much stopped it, can we get back to kissing now?" he demanded.

Danny looked down at him thoughtfully. Something, he thought, still didn't add up.

"If you guys started dating girls, then why are you so desperate to kiss me?" he smirked.

"I'm not desperate to kiss you," Dash replied scornfully.

Danny lowered his face down, and smiled inside when Dash puckered his lips. Instead of heading for the prize though, he planted a big kiss on the athlete's nose. Dash opened his eyes, disappointed.

"Fine," he said grudgingly. "We kind of had an occasional thing going on. You know, when we didn't have any girls around and wanted to get our rocks off." He had been reluctant to mention the last part because he knew that Danny was still new to the whole concept, and he did not want to scare the boy away.

Far from looking scared, however, a look of elation fell on Danny's face. He looked as if some sort of burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

"So you guys were basically fuck buddies," Danny said carefully.

"I guess," Dash said slowly after a few seconds, wondering what was going through the brunette's head.

Danny straightened his back, even more aware now that he was resting on Dash's abdomen and leaning towards his crotch, his legs on either side of Dash's body. "So tell me what we are," he said softly.

Dash didn't know how to reply. The silence between them as Danny waited for an answer was thick. Finally, Dash said honestly, "I'm not."

Danny breathed in loudly, giving a small nod. Dash worried then just how much emotion Danny had invested into this; he himself had known better. But then, a small smile broke out on Danny's face.

For his part, Danny was extremely relieved. A question he had not wanted to acknowledge before about just how serious was this fling with Dash meant to be had just been answered, and it was a relief to him to know that the blonde boy didn't expect so much out of him. Danny had let himself to not think about what he was doing, but had he gotten himself in too deep as he feared, he knew that he would have had to break things off with Dash. The story the jock had told him about how his previous experiences were just experiments had led him to a little bit of hope.

"We're just experimenting, right?" he asked, again in a soft voice.

Dash nodded, gazing intensely at Danny's face.

Danny leaned forward, pleased by this response, and gave Dash a slow kiss.

The tension in Dash's shoulders started to fade away, and gradually dissipated as he allowed himself to enjoy the feel of Danny's lips again.

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By the time Sam and Tucker arrived that afternoon, Danny had already ushered Dash out of the house with one last goodbye kiss after his parents had left, showered, and had been sitting on the couch with a dazed look on his face clad in nothing but a bathrobe when the door flung open.

"You forgot to lock the door again," Sam said breezily.

Danny looked up at him, his eyes wide and reproachful, having just been jolted out of his reverie so abruptly. Unconsciously, he brought a hand to his lips, grazing them lightly and imagined that they still tingled from that last kiss. Somehow, a kiss goodbye by the door seemed a lot more complicated than making out in bed.

"Yo, you alright?" Tucker waved his hand in front of Danny's face.

"I'm fine," Danny replied, pulling the bathrobe tighter around his frame. Tucker raised his eyebrow.

"You're wearing something underneath that, right?"

Danny grinned devilishly.

"Gross."

Sam leaned against the counter. "So what happened at the party?" she asked. "Anything interesting?"

Danny kept his eyes down and shook his head, pretending to be focused on his fingernails in hopes of ending the line of conversation. "No," he said in what he hoped was a convincing tone.

"Any ghosts break out?" Tucker picked up the remote control and turned the television on.

"No," Danny said. "Why, did you guys find anything?"

"Not me," Tucker informed. "I wouldn't have noticed anyway. Everyone came to the party bringing something – there was so much to eat." A blissful look settled on his face as he relived the previous night.

Danny turned to Sam, silently asking how her night went.

Sam shrugged. "Pretty dull night for me. Did some homework—"

"Why would you do homework?" Tucker shot. "You're a senior."

"—played some pool, watched a movie…" she concluded. "It was good."

"Good, good." Danny nodded. Suddenly, looking at her, a feeling of shame descended on him. He remembered how they had been so close, how they had denied all the catcalls about how they had found each other; he thought about how assured he had unknowingly been that they would one day end up together, and how she had told him it was too late for them. And only a few hours ago, he had been upstairs kissing and grinding against Dash Baxter as though he hadn't a single care in the world.

"Danny, are you okay?" Sam frowned. "You look sick."

Danny sucked in his cheeks as though he had just bitten into a lemon and nodded.

"Good," Sam said, "because you promised to check out what's going on with Walker after the party."

Danny groaned. He had forgotten all about that, but this was not the time. "Can't we just do this tomorrow?"

"Do you have a hangover?"

Danny frowned. "No."

"Then, no, we can't," Sam told him. "Come on, Danny, you were so manic about finding something out on Kwan, but you refuse to do anything about Walker?"

"I haven't been checking up on Kwan though," Danny pointed out. "Not for a while, anyway."

"Maybe not, but I'm guessing that you haven't been able to find anything on him and lost interest," Sam said. "I told you there wasn't anything suspicious about what he was doing, but I'm agreeing that there's something weird going on with what Walker's doing, so I don't see why you're putting this off."

"It does fall under your oath to keep the ghosts at bay," Tucker agreed.

"Right," Sam nodded. "So get up – and put some clothes on first."

Danny raised an eyebrow, and transformed into his alter-ego, the bathrobe disappearing into the uniform Danny Phantom was meant to permanently wear.

"Oh," Sam noted.

Since he was already in gear, Danny decided that there was no harm in going to the Ghost Zone now. The sooner he did, the sooner Sam would stop bugging him about finding out what was going on, and though Danny had nowhere near the level of enthusiasm he once did to find out why the ghosts were so interested in the Plasmius soul, he could at least get one step closer to closing this mystery. Besides, as Tucker had pointed out, Danny had sworn to protect Amity Park from any potential threats from ghosts.

'And it will help me get my mind off Dash,' Danny thought to himself as the heavy doors slid open and the swirling green vortex greeted him.

"So how long do you think you'll need?" Sam asked.

"Five minutes," Danny said.

"_Five_ minutes?" she repeated.

"Five minutes," he confirmed.

Bending his knees, he sprung forward into the portal, and floated through the nothingness. He moved slowly, eyeing the various doors all about him, shifting his weight to gently guide through each one that was in his path. The towers of the ghost prison were visible just ahead.

Keeping a tight grip on the brick walls, Danny closed his eyes and transformed back into his regular self. The hand holding on to the wall passed through, intangible, and, careful not to sink down to the bottom of the Zone what with his ability to float gone in his human state, pushed through the grey bricks to land safely on the floor inside the dismal jailhouse.

Long corridors lay in front of him, but having been here too many times before, Danny passed through them confidently, stopping at the door marked 'Warden'. Instead of knocking, he stepped through the door.

Walker was alone. The movement he caught out of the corner of his empty eyes caused him to look up.

"I told you not to come here again," the ghost warden stood up.

"Yeah, well, your time is up," Danny told him. "I've been waiting over a week for a status report, Walker. How much longer are you going to take?"

Walker's jaw clenched, and it appeared that he was staring Danny down. Finally, he sat back down on his seat, his gaze still fixed on Danny. "It is taking longer than I expected to break Bullet."

"That's what you said the last time," Danny said abruptly. "If you can't handle him, then I'll do something about it. Had I known you wouldn't be able to get me results, I would have dealt with him myself in the first place."

"No," Walker commanded. Danny's eyes widened. "You will not take him. He is my prisoner, and mine to break open."

"I'm the one he attacked," Danny said insistently. "He's hiding something and you obviously can't find out what it is."

"I told you to give me time, ghost-child," Walker growled. "This is a sensitive matter. That's not to say Bullet doesn't have a breaking point; it just means that I have to attack it by unexpected means."

Danny didn't want to argue anymore, and the indifference he had gathered about the subject was starting to return to him. "How much longer do you need?"

Walker surveyed him. "One week."

"One week!" Danny yelped. "Forget it. I'll have Sam crack him."

"Very well," Walker held up his hand. "Six days."

Danny rolled his eyes. "You're not very good at negotiating, are you."

"Be quiet."

Danny folded his arms across his chest. "Six days," he agreed. "And it counts today. I'll be back to see what you've got Friday afternoon."

Walker didn't reply, and Danny didn't wait for him to show him the way out.

When he was sure that the teenager was gone, Walker picked up the communicator and said into it, "Tell him to hurry up."

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When Danny landed back in his parents' laboratory, he barely had a moment to change before Sam and Tucker surrounded him, firing questions.

"Well? What did he say?" Sam asked eagerly.

"Did Bullet break yet?" Tucker wanted to know.

"Did you see him?" Sam added.

Danny held up his hands in surrender. "Whoa! Whoa! A little breathing room, please."

They apologized and backed away. Danny reached over and closed the heavy doors with his handprint.

"So what did he say?" Sam jumped in.

Danny shook his head. "He wants six days."

"Six days?" Sam and Tucker repeated in disbelief.

"He still hasn't broken Bullet," Danny told them.

"But he wants six days for it?" Sam raised an eyebrow. "You should have just brought him here."

"Yeah, give Sam a metal bar, and she would have broken him in six hours," Tucker quipped.

"Tops," Sam nodded.

"Hey, relax guys," Danny made his way to the door. "Six days is fine. Walker will have the week to get somewhere with Bullet, and I can find out what he knows on Friday. That way, we'll have the weekend to figure out how to handle this. At least he's locked up safe in the prison instead of running around the Ghost Zone or over here unchecked."

"And meanwhile we can find some other ghost to spill his guts, right?" Tucker nodded.

"Sure," Danny said dully.

He pushed open the door to the living room, and they herded into the kitchen. "Er, Tucker, you mind?" he gestured to the fridge. In his human state, he was still clad only in the blue bathrobe, as he had not bothered to change before crossing into the Ghost Zone. Tucker pulled open the door, reached in, and pulled out three cans of soda for them. "Thanks," Danny said, unclasping his and bringing it to his dry mouth.

Sam chewed on her lip, and Danny knew she still had the issue on her mind. Samantha Manson was not one to let things go easily if she perceived an injustice had been occurred. Danny still remembered that time in freshman year when she had campaigned for a larger vegetarian selection, which had escalated until there had been no meat to offer the school's carnivores.

As he had expected, she soon opened her mouth and claimed, "Six days is still too much. I mean, what if Walker and Bullet are working together now? Danny, you should go back into the Ghost Zone and get him yourself. It'd be no problem for you, Walker can't touch you while you're in your human form there."

Danny sighed. "Sam, why would Walker and Bullet work together—"

"Because Bullet is his second-in-command!" Sam raised her arms in exasperation, sloshing brown liquid everywhere.

"Hey!" Tucker protested, jumping aside in order to avoid soda slopping on his front.

"Walker is obsessed with law and order," Danny reminded. "Even if Bullet is – _was_ – his second-in-command, we have an understanding. He wouldn't stand for one of his guys blatantly attacking me without his orders."

"I think you're putting too much faith into this little 'understanding' of yours," Sam said acidly. "The point is that Bullet earned enough of Walker's trust before to rise in his ranks. What makes you think he would side with you over him?"

Danny changed tactic. "Okay, suppose I managed to break Bullet out of Walker's prison – what then?" Though he had told Walker that Sam would have easily been able to find out what the purple ghost knew, he was quite sure that if Walker wasn't able to find out anything with his torture devices and sadistic mind games, they wouldn't get very far with a metal bar either. "Bullet's just going to go intangible against everything we throw at him, and he'd just fly out of here and roam about freely.

"Not to mention what Walker would do when he finds out what I did; the last thing I want is another one of those full-scale attacks of his; I don't think I could handle it right now," he concluded. "Trust me, it's better this way."

Sam could see that there was no way to change his mind. "Where are your parents?" she asked.

"At work," Danny replied. "Inventors don't get many days off."

He took a sip of his drink. "So what do you guys want to do today?"

Tucker shrugged. "It's Sunday. We could just hang here."

But Danny shook his head. "No, I don't want to stay here all day. Let's go somewhere."

"We could go to the mall again," Sam suggested.

Danny frowned. "No, I was just there the other day."

"Well, where else do teens get to hang out?" Tucker asked.

They stood by the fridge for several minutes proposing ideas and shooting each one down, until finally opting to just go down to the Nasty Burger. As it was close to FentonWorks, they decided to simply walk there instead of drive, and so Danny went upstairs and changed into his favored white shirt and baggy jeans. As he came back downstairs, he couldn't help but think to himself that they might run into Dash there. Sam, however, didn't share his sentiments.

"Here's hoping we don't run into those self-absorbed jerks," she said on the way there. She didn't have to specify who she meant.

"You know, you should really lighten up on those guys," Tucker said. "Danny's in with the in crowd now. This could be our chance to get to know them better."

"Why would I want to get to know them better?" Sam asked. "Meeting Paulina and her little clique in the bathroom is enough for me, and even that's too much." She turned to Danny. "Come on, aren't you sick of seeing Dash's face?"

'No,' he thought instantly. A small smile crept on to his face. "He's okay, I guess," Danny replied in what he hoped was a casual tone. He didn't bother trying to sell Sam on the prospect of hanging out with the popular girls as he knew that it was a fruitless effort, and would do little more than irritate her.

When they reached the Nasty Burger, he pushed open the door and scanned the crowd. Almost instantly, he caught sight of a familiar head of blonde locks, and felt his heart swell in his chest.

Remembering not to linger on the sight too often, lest he aroused Sam and Tucker's suspicions, Danny walked in quickly, keeping his focus on the large menu lighted up behind the counter. "What are you guys having?" he asked.

"Salad," Sam told him, the same as Tucker piped, "Double patty with cheese."

Danny walked to the counter, but before he reached it, Paulina came up to him and said demurely, "Hey, Danny."

"Uh, hi, Paulina," Danny greeted, somewhat surprised that she was talking to him not just in public, but at the hangout of every teenager in their high school. He felt several eyes on him now. "Why don't you come join us at our table?" Paulina held a knowing glint in her eye.

"Uh …" Danny looked at Sam and Tucker behind him. Paulina leaned to her side, as though she had only just noticed that they were with him.

"Oh, your little friends can come too," she chirped. "Hey, Sam."

Sam, caught off-guard by her acknowledgement, stammered, "Er … hi."

"You're actually offering to let us sit at your table?" Tucker said loudly, then drew his lips into a tight, thin line, no doubt chastising himself for sounding like such a loser in front of all their peers. Danny was only thankful that he didn't draw more attention to this by slapping his hands over his mouth or something of the like.

"Of course," Paulina said breezily. "Why wouldn't I?"

Sam opened her mouth to answer, but closed it up again when she felt Tucker jab her sharply with his elbow.

"Sure," Danny said awkwardly. He stole a glance at Dash out of the corner of his eye. Paulina caught the motion and her smile grew even bigger. Danny was suddenly filled with dread. Paulina led the three of them to the table. Danny thought he heard Tucker whistle to Sam in a low voice, "_In with the in crowd_."

They slid into the booth with the rest of them, Paulina by Danny's side, Tucker and Sam edging in next to him. Only Star, Kwan and Dash were there, so there was enough room to accommodate them all. Danny could still feel the other patrons watching them. He tried to look at anyone, anything, besides Dash, but slowly his eyes slid back to him. The blonde was watching him steadily, one side of his cheek moving as he slowly chewed on the burger he had just bitten into.

A waitress with her auburn hair tied into a ponytail came up to them. "So, what will you have?" she asked.

Danny blinked. "Um … one salad and two double patties, please. With cheese." She wrote it down on her pad, then whisked away to fill their order.

"I thought this place was self-service," Tucker said, astonished.

"It comes with being part of the A-list," Star informed them disdainfully. Danny briefly wondered if she was capable of speaking to anyone in a way that didn't suggest that they were dirt under her designer shoes. He had certainly never heard it, anyway.

Dash was still looking at him, and Paulina still had that secretive smile on her face. Kwan was nibbling on a handful of fries.

"Uh, do you know everyone's staring at us?" Danny broached.

"Comes with—"

"Comes with the A-list," Sam interrupted Star impatiently. "Yes, yes, we got it. Is knowing how to make them stop also part of the package?"

Star smiled at her coldly. "Not while you're dressed like that."

"That's a great idea!" Paulina said excitedly. "Sam, we should go shopping!"

Sam stared at her as though she had grown a mutant head. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, it'll be a great way to bond," Paulina said. "We could get you some really cute outfits."

"Unless you actually want to go on looking like this," Star said. She tilted her head. "What's the matter, don't you want to fit in?"

"As a matter of fact—"

"Of course she does," Tucker interjected, beaming. He nudged her under the table. "Will you chill?" he muttered. "This could be our chance to get out of high school on top."

Either he had spoken too loudly, or Dash was paying far too much attention to Danny and his friends, because he groused, "Who cares about leaving high school on top? You're going to graduate and never see any of these people again, anyway."

Sam gaped. Clearly, she hadn't expected anyone from the popular group to share such a disengaging sentiment. Danny tried to hide the small smile on his face. It was quite hilarious to witness Sam's perception changing right in front of his very eyes.

He caught Dash's eye, and felt his face heat up when the jock gave him a flirtatious smirk.

Paulina shifted in her seat. "So, Danny, I hope you had a good time at my party last night," she purred.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, it – it was really something," Danny said distractedly, turning to glance at her for a moment before returning to watching Dash watching him. Out of his line of vision, Paulina grinned widely, sharing a look with Kwan out of the corner of her eyes, who also felt a smile tug at his lips. Sam and Tucker felt lost.

Danny tried to keep an ear out for anything that Paulina or anyone else at the table might have been saying, but his brain wasn't bothering to pay attention to much else aside from Dash's face. Vaguely he remembered how Sam and Tucker had informed him about his tendency to obsess over one thing, and mindlessly agreed with them now.

Dash dipped his head to take a sip of his drink from the straw. Danny didn't have much time to enjoy the sight though, because all of a sudden, he felt someone tugging on his sleeve.

"Danny!" Sam cried breathlessly.

"What?" he said, annoyed.

"_Ghost!_"

"What?" Danny's head whipped around. Suddenly, screams enveloped him on all sides. Barstools scraped the floor as the people sitting at the counter scrambled to get out of the way. Several people sitting at the tables decided to hide under them. Most, however, ran straight for the back door, as the ghost, one that Danny had never seen before, was hovering too close to the front for anyone to dare cross it.

This one, just like the one he had encountered at the cinema a few days earlier, was massive too. 'What is with these guys?' Danny wondered angrily. Couldn't he ask for just a few days to himself? Why were all these ghosts he had never encountered before in the past four years suddenly attacking now, and _why_ were they so huge?

He got to his feet, his hair falling into his face as gusts of wind from the shoving crowd swept them there in their efforts to get out of the building. He needed a place to go ghost. With the few people still hiding under the tables and behind the counter, it was too risky to change right now. His only chance was to go to the bathroom.

Before he could take a step, he felt calloused fingers grip his arm. But following Dash to safety was the last thing on Danny's mind, so he willed his arm to turn intangible. Dash's fingers slipped through it easily, and the boy was already heading outside, too consume with fear and adrenaline to really notice that Danny was not with him.

Danny leapt forward, getting dangerously close to the ghost's path in order to duck out of sight, but fortunately he moved too fast for the ghost to single out. Skidding to a stop by the bathrooms, Danny stole a quick glance around before changing into his ghost half.

His fingers curled into fists, he flew back out to the main area of the eatery and hovered before the ghost. "If you're here for what I think you're here for, you won't find it," he told the ectoplasmic mass.

It grunted. Figures. This one was stupid too.

"Alright," he amended. "Guess I'll just have to beat the message into you." And he charged forward, slamming his fist into the ghost's forehead. It let out a roar, and Danny took the chance to land a few more solid punches.

The ghost eventually gathered its wits about enough to try and defend itself. As Danny darted about, he was forced to avoid a large hand aiming for him to swat him away. The ghost's large red eyes narrowed, and it raised its other hand, bringing both of them together. Danny, caught in the middle, realized that it was now attempting to squash him like a mosquito.

Gritting his teeth, he surged upwards, forcing himself to move faster so that no part of him would be caught. He managed to just reach above its long fingers, but felt himself forced back by the force of the ghost's hands clapping together so close to him. He tumbled back, and caught sight of Sam and Tucker looking fearfully up at the fight. He tried to call for Tucker to throw him the Fenton Thermos, but was suddenly thrown across the room before he managed to get a word out. The left side of his body hurt. He winced. The ghost had managed to swat him while he was caught unawares.

"Tucker!" he yelled, raising a hand and shooting a beam of ectoplasmic energy towards his adversary, "I need the Thermos!"

The ghost let out another roar, drowning out Tucker's words. Before Danny could ask him to repeat himself, however, he heard someone call out his name. He turned, and saw Kwan holding up a Fenton Thermos. "Catch!" Kwan shouted, tossing it to him. Danny caught the pass gratefully, turning to the beast. Closing his eyes, he opened the lid and focused his energy on activating the thermos. The beam of light shot out, hitting the ghost directly in the chest.

It was a sight to behold. The ghost's cheeks puffed up, as though it were trying to hold in air, or – more likely, Danny thought – trying to hold in a scream. The beam of light centered around its chest, and its translucent tail was pulled up, towards the vacuum, and entered the beam on its chest. The ghost then proceeded to disappear within itself, the tail being pulled in, followed by its torso from the bottom up. Eventually, there was nothing left, and Danny capped the Thermos again, not entirely sure if the ghost was in there or if it had actually disappeared out of existence.

He zoomed towards the bathrooms again and, when safely out of sight from the remaining patrons who were still hiding, changed back into Danny Fenton, landing safely back on the tiled floor.

He reappeared to see Tucker and Sam helping people to their feet, a few others getting up on their own, shakily looking around. The damage had at least been minimal.

The three of them waited a moment before finding someplace private to talk. "How did Kwan get hold of a Fenton Thermos?" Danny wondered out loud.

Sam squinted. "So you didn't give it to him?"

"No, of course not," Danny frowned. "Why would I?" He turned to Tucker. "Why didn't you throw me the Thermos when I asked for it?"

"Because I didn't have one on me," Tucker replied blankly.

"What?" Danny voice rose. "Why not?"

"I haven't had one on me for days," Tucker said. "Not since the cinema incident."

A sense of foreboding overcame Danny. "You … didn't have one then either?" he asked slowly.

"Of course I did," Tucker looked at him strangely. "You used it to suck in that ghost, remember?"

"Wait, wait, wait, you've lost me," Danny held up a hand. Sam watched the exchange, nonplussed. "I gave that Thermos back to you."

"Danny, no, you didn't," Tucker said. Danny could see the confusion in his eyes. "You used it that day – at least, I'm assuming it was the same thermos – and you've kept it with you ever since."

"Tucker's right, Danny," Sam looked at him curiously. "You didn't give Tucker that Thermos back. I know; I was right next to him the whole time."

"Wait, hold on," Danny's mind was racing. "You _threw_ me that Thermos, and after I was done with it, I threw it back to you."

But Tucker was shaking his head. "Dude, I never threw you that Thermos." Danny gaped. "It rolled out of my hand while we were hiding." He turned to Sam as if waiting for her to confirm what he was saying.

"When that ghost attacked …" Danny said slowly.

"We were all near the snack bar," Tucker said, just as slowly. "You got behind the counter and then went to fight it, and Sam and I crawled over to hide behind that poster because you and the ghost were getting too close for our comfort." Sam nodded along to what he was saying. "And when we got there, I realized I didn't have the Thermos with me; it must have dropped out of my hand on the way. But then I saw you with it, so I figured you had grabbed it while I wasn't looking."

A chill suddenly descended upon Danny as he heard what his friend was saying. Tucker hadn't thrown him the Thermos – but Danny had clearly heard someone warning him before throwing it to him. Looking down at the object gripped tightly in his hand, everything began to click as his brain recreated the scene. It was impossible, but then there was no other way to explain it...

"Danny?" Sam said worriedly, looking into his eyes.

"Danny?" Tucker repeated. "Dude, are you oka— hey, where are you going?" For Danny had suddenly broken out running, shoving past them, his mind flashing through every event that had taken place within the past few weeks. Fury gripped him, and he could barely see where he was going, though his legs carried him automatically. As he sprinted over the small hill on the road, he leapt up, transforming once again into Danny Phantom, and zoomed through the sky.

Flying was automatic too. Danny's mind was so full that he was unable to register anything, but sheer instinct took him where he wanted to go. His rage blinded him, but soon he saw the house he had only been to a few times before. Turning intangible, he went right through wall and glass, reappearing only after he had passed through the window and aimed straight at his target.

Kwan hadn't seen him until it was too late, and when Danny kneeled above him, one hand gripping the Asian boy's thick neck tightly, the other raised up and curled into a fist, radiating dangerously with power, the shock on Kwan's face only served to fuel his anger further. His green eyes glowed brilliantly.

"D – Danny?" Kwan choked out.

"_How long?_" Danny asked through clenched teeth. His face was scrunched, and his body was shaking harder than it ever had before.

Kwan remained bewildered. "How long what?" he managed to get out, feeling Danny's grip on his neck tightening with every second.

"_How long have you been possessing him_?" Danny snarled.

Kwan astounded face remained only a moment longer, and then it relaxed into a mask of passiveness. His slanted eyes closed, as if he were going to sleep, but even as it shut, Danny felt and saw a presence leaving his body, gliding smoothly from the jock's head and lingering in midair, facing Danny. Danny released his chokehold on the boy, and, with massive effort, pulled his trembling body into a standing position.

"So, you've finally found out," the ghost before him said. His voice was deeper than that of Kwan's, showing no trace of youth in it.

"Yes," Danny said quietly. His eyes were narrowed, and still glowed, and his hands were still clenched into fists.

"How did you?" the ghost asked.

Danny ignored him. "You've been following me," he accused. "And you were overshadowing him to do it," he nodded to the unconscious Kwan lying on the floor between them. "I should have known sooner. All the signs were there."

He fixed the ghost with a hard stare. "I should have known, but I wasn't paying attention. How you refused to eat or drink anything, it was because you're a ghost. You don't eat food."

"I only ate the barest minimum, so that I could get by without this body collapsing," the ghost agreed.

"And the exercise," Danny said shakily. "I'd wondered why you kept going and going without stopping for a break." He let out a breath of air he didn't realize he'd been holding in. "It's because your endurance lasts longer than a human's."

"Very astute," the ghost replied.

His insouciance infuriated Danny. He had infiltrated one of his schoolmate's bodies for weeks now, had purposely gotten close to Danny, and here he was now, simply flaunting it and waiting for Danny to piece everything together.

"But I should have known," Danny continued, "I should have known when my ghost sense started getting affected."

The ghost remained silent now, his ghostly tail wavering.

"All this time," Danny felt shame rising within him, thinking of how he had missed the most obvious clue. "All this time, the answer was staring me in the face; I just couldn't see it." His gaze grew cold. "That day when I'd been sick, and found Technus in my parents' lab – that was the first time I noticed it. My ghost sense was working fine when I found him, but later when I had my back turned to him, and he hit me – I should have been able to sense him coming towards me. I didn't realize at the time, that was when I first thought something was wrong with my powers. But now it's so obvious: I couldn't sense him coming at me because you'd only been a few feet from where I was standing at the time.

"And the first time my powers stopped—" everything was clicking in his brain now; Danny wasn't even regulating the words coming out of his mouth. They just came as each single connection was made. "I hadn't noticed it back then, but the first time my ghost sense fizzled out … Ember had snuck up behind me. You must have been right below me, because we came into my room, you burst in and started attacking. You were blocking my ghost sense."

"During Paulina's party …" he muttered. "I thought that we'd been struck by an earthquake. Sam told me it was a ghost; it had slammed its tentacle against one of the house's walls. I should have been able to tell it was a ghost, but I couldn't – and you were beside me the whole night." He leveled his gaze with the ghost's.

"And," he realized, "that day I ditched you and Dash to go to the park with Tucker! Dash said you'd left to find me only a few minutes after I left, but we didn't come across you at all. You were hiding from us – that's why I didn't sense Bullet when he came after me."

He racked his brains for more instances. "That day when Bertrand attacked the school – I told Sam and Tucker to get away; I heard her tell someone to get lost, but I thought that she was talking to Tucker." His breaths were coming in short gasps now. "When I was searching for Tucker to get the Fenton Thermos, he hit me from behind." The scene replayed in his brain; he remembered the searing pain he had felt as Bertrand got in an easy hit. "I had just passed the classroom you were in," he remembered. "And that's why I couldn't sense him; you were only a few feet away."

Mentioning the Fenton Thermos brought him to the last example. "And that day in the cinema," he said quietly, "that was my biggest clue of all; I just didn't know it.

"I thought Tucker had thrown me the Fenton Thermos. But he didn't; you did. I didn't know you were there, but it makes sense now. That's why I didn't sense that big ghost, and that's why I didn't sense the one at the Nasty Burger today. And that's how you got hold of a Fenton Thermos." His eyes flashed. "You picked it up when Tucker lost it; I threw it back in your direction when I was done, because I thought that was where he was." His feet left the ground and he hovered in midair, just like the ghost in front of him was doing. "Did I miss anything out?"

"I'm sure whatever you may have, you'll be able to figure out," the ghost replied. "You've done so well already. I admit, I didn't expect to leave behind such a long big trail. I didn't know I managed to block out your spectral sense entirely; I had willed it, so that you would not detect me so easily, yes, but to obstruct it completely – I suppose I don't know my own strength."

"A lot of good that'll do you now," Danny's hands flared with green fire. "By the time I'm through with you, you won't even have the strength to pick yourself up from the floor."

The ghost raised his hand, gesturing for Danny to stop. "You misunderstand me," he said. "All this time, I've been around you – don't you think that if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now?"

"You were biding your time," Danny said quickly.

"And exactly what would I have been biding my time for?" the ghost demanded.

"You're after the Plasmius soul," Danny rose higher in the air. "Just like all the rest."

"And if I wanted the Plasmius soul," the ghost reasoned, "wouldn't I have gone for it by now?"

"No," Danny shook his head, his mouth in a grim line, "not after seeing me deal with everyone else that had come after it. Your strategy was to get close enough."

"Not only are you jumping to conclusions," the ghost gave a thin smile, "you're leaping in bounds and struggling to find a strand of reasoning. If my strategy were simply to get close to you in order to obtain the Plasmius soul, as you so call it, why would I settle for this body, this human you apparently held almost no contact with until after I arrived rather than one of those two friends of yours? In this form, you don't trust me enough to even talk about the spirit you keep, much less give me a chance to get near it."

"You've been in my house!" Danny bellowed. "Any of those times you strolled in, you could have tried to take it."

"Yes," the ghost said softly. "I could have. But instead, all I have taken during my time here are weapons to arm myself with and this device you use to store ghosts in.

"Don't you see, Danny?" he said, "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to _protect_ you."

Danny stared, stunned. "Protect me from what?"

"All the ghosts that want the soul for themselves," the ghost said. "I don't want them to have it any more than you do; we both know that they would do nothing with it but to further their own means. The spirit is safest with you, and that's where I want it to remain. Why do you think I've been training myself so hard? It is so that I can better defend myself against the onslaught, and thus better defend you."

His smooth voice told Danny not to trust him, but he had to admit, he felt some of his anger ebb away. The ghost floated closer. "My name is Tyrant," he offered. Then without warning, he whipped forward back into Kwan's body. Taken off-guard, Danny stared baffled for a moment, then with an angry sound raised his fist up and slammed it down into Kwan's body.

The moments he had spent trying to gather his wits, however, cost him the advantage, for Kwan's body turned intangible, unharmed by Danny's fist. Inwardly, Danny was thankful; he had reacted without thinking, and only now realized that such a blow directly into the jock's body could have killed him.

Kwan's body rose up, still intangible, and floated out of his range before turning solid again. "You don't trust me yet," he said, returning to the boy's regular voice. "But you will, Danny, you'll see."

And with that, he propelled himself backwards, turning intangible and phasing through the wall, flying off into the night.

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Author's Note: Thanks for all your great reviews in the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too.

Kichi Hisaki, it never really mattered to me who was on top and who was on the bottom.


	20. Looking Deeper Into Survival

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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At the back of his mind, Danny's brain reminded him that he had the very luxurious option of flying wherever he wanted to go, but he ignored it. It felt good to run, and even though his legs were complaining, he ignored the feeling and didn't stop until he saw the large house loom in the distance. It was only when he was standing right in front of the door's clean white door, desperately ringing the doorbell and banging on the wood with the side of his fist alternately that he allowed himself to stop, and felt the full extent of his aching muscles.

He was bent over double, hands on his knees, gasping and trying to regain his composure when the door swung open and Jeremy Manson peeked out cautiously to see who had been banging on it so maniacally. When he saw Danny standing there, still hunched over and trying to catch his breath, his hair wilder than ever from sprinting all the way to their house, his apprehensive look was replaced with one of extreme dislike. "May I help you?" he asked.

Danny's head shot up, and he stood up straighter. "Uh, yeah," he panted. "I – I'm here to see Sam?"

"Young man, we are the middle of _dinner_," Mr. Manson said sternly.

"Who is it, dad?" Danny heard Sam called. She came behind him with her mother in tow. "Danny?"

"Sam!" Danny took a step forward, stopping dead in his tracks when Mr. Manson closed the door almost entirely, "I need to talk to you."

"Dad, open the door," Sam said, walking forward and pulling it open wider.

"Samantha, we are the middle of dinner!" Mr. Manson said.

"Dad, I told you, I ate at the Nasty Burger," Sam explained patiently.

"Oh, Sammy, you know that hardly counts as a nutritious meal …" Sam's mother tried to appeal to her, but Sam wasn't listening anymore. She beckoned Danny to come inside, and he took another step forward, a timid look on his face when he glanced at Sam's parents.

"We'll be downstairs," Sam told them without looking back, leading the way into the basement.

When she slammed the door, Danny stood on the stairs awkwardly. "Er, Sam, you know, you can finish your dinner if you want to," he said. "My thing can wait."

"Don't be silly," Sam said, passing him by as she walked down. "You know I already ate. Now, what's so important that you practically banged our door down to tell me?"

"Well …" Danny followed her down.

"Are you going to tell me where you flew off to without a word, because in that case, I should call Tucker to come over too," Sam told him.

"Uh, yeah," Danny said, "sorry about that. But this is big."

Sam picked up the phone's receiver and dialed Tucker's number.

"You don't have to call him!" Danny protested. "I'm sure his family is having dinner too."

"Tucker can stand to drag himself from one meal," Sam said. "Honestly, I don't know how that boy stays as thin as he does. Besides, I'm just going to put him on speakerphone. There's no way I'm waiting for him to walk all the way over here before I get to hear about this." She broke off suddenly, then said in a sweet voice, "Hi, Mister Foley? Is Tucker in? This is Sam."

She waited a moment, then said, "Tucker, hold on, I'm putting you on speakerphone." She pressed a button on the receiver and placed the phone back. A bright red button gleamed on it. "Okay, go ahead, Danny."

"Danny's there?" he heard Tucker ask. "Should I come over?"

"No," Sam said. "Just listen. What is it, Danny?" She turned her eyes to him. He hesitated. He had never been comfortable conversing with someone on speakerphone, much less regarding a topic like this. He decided to just spit it out.

"Kwan's a ghost."

Sam stared. The speakerphone was silent.

"What?" Tucker's voice crackled through.

This seemed to bring Sam back to life. "What do you mean, 'Kwan's a ghost'?" she asked. "How did you find out?"

"I – I went to his place to confront him about it," Danny felt out of breath again and plopped down on the armchair behind him. "He was being possessed, by this ghost named Tyrant or something. I only just figured it out when we were talking outside the Nasty Burger earlier."

"But how did you find out?" Sam persisted. "If he's a ghost, why didn't you sense it earlier?"

"That's exactly it!" Danny exclaimed loudly. "I _can't_ sense ghosts when they overshadow a person, remember? I didn't know Kitty was possessing Paulina before, and I didn't figure out Walker's squadron was possessing people during that ghost attack until it was too late. But this one was strange..."

"Who was strange, the ghost?" Sam questioned.

"No," Danny shook his head. He stared past her and blankly at the inactive big-screen TV. "This one blocked my ghost sense. I don't think any other ghost has been able to do that before. That's why I didn't realize it. Every time I was around Kwan and a ghost was nearby, I couldn't sense it. He had been blocking me somehow."

"Why did he do that?" Tucker asked through the phone. "Didn't he know you wouldn't have been able to sense him anyway?"

"I don't know," Danny strained to remember what the ghost had said. It was all a big blur to him now. "He said … he said he willed it. So that I wouldn't figure it out. But I guess he had done it too strongly. And he said … he was here to protect me."

Now Sam looked confused. She raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "Protect you? From what?"

"The ghosts," Danny said quietly. "He told me he was here to help me protect the Plasmius soul from the others that wanted it."

"He's lying," Tucker said immediately.

"That's what I thought," Danny said. "But if he wanted the soul for himself, then why didn't he take it? Kwan was the perfect cover for him; he's been to my house so many times. He could have tried to take it whenever."

"But it's not at your place anymore anyway," Sam pointed out. "It's here."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," Danny argued. "As far as the ghosts think, I still have it." He looked directly at her. "And I'm going to give it back to Vlad."

"What?" Sam's eyes widened.

"It's becoming too much of a problem," Danny said decisively, getting up from the chair. "I'm just going to have to tell him I'm sorry, but I can't keep it. What if they come after you next? Or Tucker, if they decide to find out information from him."

"I wouldn't talk!" Tucker's voice squeaked through the speakerphone.

But the thought of a ghost having gotten so close had shaken Danny. His mind was made up; Vlad would have to simply find some way to destroy the spirit or let it re-inhabit him, because he couldn't stand to bear it a minute longer.

"Danny, wait," Sam got to her feet after him. "You can't give it back to Vlad now. The ghosts want that spirit for something, and it could be really bad. It's your duty to find out what it is. Vlad can't keep them away by himself! What if they try to kill him?" She grasped onto his wrist.

"What if they try to kill _us_?" Danny cried in frustration, pulling his hand away.

"Either way, it's safer with us than it could be with him," Sam said. "It may look bad now, but think how bad it would be if one of the ghosts actually get to it!"

Danny didn't want to think about it. But there was no way he could allow Sam to keep hiding the soul for him. He sighed and rubbed his nose. "Fine," he said. "We'll keep it. But you're going to have to give it to me. I can't risk you and Tucker with this."

Sam looked away, then looked back. "Fine," she said steadily.

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The next morning, Danny stopped by Sam's and Tucker's house to give them the rare treat of driving them to school. As both houses were out of the way, the occasion was typically reserved for instances when they needed to discuss cases regarding ghosts that required more attention than they would have been able to give during school hours. Gliding through nearly empty roads and taking the longest way they knew, the three of them leaned close to each other so that they could catch every word.

"I didn't just let him go," Danny said patiently, "I was about to beat him to a pulp, but he distracted me and got away."

"So why didn't you give chase?" Tucker demanded.

"I _did_. He went invisible and I couldn't track him anymore," Danny replied. "That's when I ran over to your place," he addressed Sam now.

"So what are you going to do when you see him?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Danny moaned. "Somehow, I don't think it's going to go over well if I started beating up a member of the football team right in the hallway. I don't think even Danny Phantom would get away with that. And after school, I've got Dash coming over, and if Kwan's with him, I won't be able to touch him either."

"All in all, a pretty good choice for a host," Tucker noted, "one of the most popular boys in school."

"That just happens to come to your house on a daily basis now," Sam added. "How do you think that worked out?"

Danny turned his head to her in surprise. "What, you think Connor…?" He remembered how Bertrand had mentioned that he and Spectra had parted ways. His mind started speeding up. Had Spectra arranged this whole situation? How high up did this plan go?

"Well, not necessarily Connor," Sam clarified. With a significant tone in her voice, she said, "I don't think Tyrant would have needed him to get such a sweet deal."

As if on cue, they pulled up right in front of Dash Baxter.

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Danny tried to refrain himself from blushing when his eye caught Sam and Tucker's, who were clearly asking him, 'Why is he following us?' Dash had attached himself by Danny's side ever since the three of them had gotten out of the car, and hadn't said a single word. They were nearing Danny's locker now, and Sam opened her mouth, probably to say something nasty, but Paulina had caught sight of her and waved cheerily before grabbing her hand and whisking her away to chat.

Dash glared at the remaining friend, who only took one look at him before sprinting away.

"Handy trick," Danny quipped, turning to face Dash. "I think I'd prefer it if you used it on Lancer."

"Sure," Dash said in a low voice, leaning forward with a smirk.

Danny took a step back. "Dash, not here," he hissed. "We're in the middle of the hallway."

"So?" Dash said carelessly. "No one's around but us. Paulina's got Manson occupied, and Foley isn't going see us."

"Yeah, um, about that," Danny said, remembering the way the popular girl had been acting at the Nasty Burger the previous day, "Paulina doesn't _know_, does she?"

Dash shrugged. "I dunno. So what if she does?"

Danny gave him a skeptical look. "She could spread it all around Amity Park, for one."

"Oh, Paulina wouldn't do that," Dash disputed.

"How do you know?" Danny challenged.

"Well, I've been friends with her for four years, I think that'd be enough," Dash shot back. "And besides, anyone who has a problem with it can talk to my fist."

Though he'd never admit it, Danny felt quite flattered that Dash was ready to take such action on his behalf. Having been on the receiving end of his bullying for so many years, he knew very well the almighty power of the fist.

"Look, Danny, don't worry about it," Dash leaned closer again. "If Paulina knows, she's probably masturbating to the thought of two of us together, and I'll deal with anyone else who has a problem."

"Yeah, but—" Danny tried to speak.

Dash kissed him.

A moment later, Danny kissed back, his fingertips gently resting on either side of Dash's face.

They parted when they heard Sam's angry voice signal her approach, "No, Paulina, I will not go shopping with you."

"But it will be such a fantastic chance to bond!" Paulina's whiny voice preceded her as they appeared from around the corner.

"Is that all you ever think about?" Sam asked venomously. "In any case, _why_ would ever want to bond with me?"

"Oh, it's not like we can go camping or anything," Paulina ignored the last part of Sam's question. They stopped next to Dash and Danny. "It's icky and clothes can get torn very easily."

"Uh-huh," Sam looked very bored. "Well, guess that means we shouldn't hang out." And with that, she made her escape.

"I appreciate the sudden urge to butt into Sam's life, Paulina, but maybe you should quit while you're ahead," Danny said after his friend was out of earshot.

"Yes, you wouldn't want her to start biting," Dash said dryly.

"It's only fair; why should you get to be the only one with a geek?" Paulina asked. Oblivious to Danny's affronted look, she pinched his cheek and walked on in the direction Sam had not a moment ago, giggling about how they were 'just so cute.'

"She definitely knows," Danny's heart sank like a stone.

The front door opened and a stream of students filtered in.

"Morning rush," Dash said, then left his side. Almost immediately, Sam took his place. Danny jumped in surprise.

"That girl is the absolute worst," she fumed, not taking notice. "What's her problem? Just because you're being forced into hanging with Dash, I suddenly have to do the same with her?"

"She's just trying to be friendly," Danny offered as they walked together.

"Oh, come on, Danny," Sam spat. "Can't you see what she's doing? Paulina's so fixated with cliques and status that she has no idea what to do when someone from her social circle starts branching out."

"So … maybe you try showing her that there's something more than that," Danny suggested offhandedly.

Sam brightened. "Deconstructing the cheerleader? Interesting."

Danny's eyes widened. This did not sound good. "Don't break her in half or anything," he warned. "Never mind, just forget it."

"No, no," Sam said quickly. "It'd be a great project."

"No project!"

But Sam wasn't listening. "Graduation is in less than two months. It's a chance, but if she's so insistent about sticking to me, it's the least I could do," she mused. "Once we all get out of here, there's no way she can hold on to this frame of mind any longer. I'd be doing her a favor. It could be my humanitarian cause of the year."

"Um, Sam, you're involved in some humanitarian cause every other week," Danny pointed out.

"Yeah, but those are for plants and animals," she said coolly. "This will be a real _human_itarian cause. It's about time I started focusing on my fellow man as well." Sam snapped her fingers together. "You see that, Danny? Reaching another level. That's what it's all about."

And she rushed off ahead of him, leaving Danny to puzzle over what she had in mind.

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"Just promise me you aren't going to use a sledgehammer or anything," Danny said when he saw Sam later at lunch that day. "That deconstruction stuff's still got me freaked out."

"Oh, Danny, stop worrying," Sam said. "It's just an expression. I'm not going to do anything … except change her life forever."

"That's not much more comforting," Danny said.

Tucker, who had been bopping his head to a song playing on his PDA, pulled an earphone out of his ear and looked at them curiously. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Sam's got something in store for Paulina," Danny informed him.

"I'm not going to do anything that's not going to happen once maturity sets in anyway," Sam said, sitting down. "I'm just giving it a little nudge. Otherwise, she'd probably be trying to make her life out to be like high school until she's thirty."

"What's so wrong about that?" Tucker asked. "Paulina's done great in high school."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yeah, if you call being a condescending troll of a woman 'doing great'."

She looked around the bleak grey walls. "You know what, let's eat outside," she suggested.

Danny raised his eyebrow. "You haven't wanted to eat outside in weeks."

"I know," Sam said. "But the sun is shining, the birds are chirping—"

"You're going to do whatever you're planning to her right now, aren't you?" Danny wasn't fooled for a minute. Sam didn't reply, instead pushing the doors leading outside open.

"Any room left?" she greeted the popular crowd. Paulina stared up at her before reaching out and pushing Star off the bench. Sam smiled wickedly at Danny and Tucker who were standing blinking stupidly, stepping over Star and taking her place.

"This is nauseating," Danny commented.

Tucker didn't seem to think so. "This is groundbreaking!" his jaw dropped. "Danny, look what you've done! A Goth chick hanging out with a popular girl!"

"Hey," Dash called. "Are you joining us or what?"

Danny was once again very aware that everyone's eyes were fixed on them. No one could seem to believe their eyes and ears.

"Pass," Danny said back. "I have to go to the library." Dash nodded, and Danny pulled Tucker back inside the school.

"Danny, we're missing history in the making!" Tucker protested. "It could be a revolution – or anarchy."

"Would you stop it?" Danny asked irritably. "You're as bad as those gawkers out there. We've hung out with the popular crowd before. Now look," he stopped outside a classroom and peeked in, only to wince when he saw Mr. Lancer inside grading papers, then opened the door to an adjacent broom closet and ducked in, "we need to talk about Kwan."

"What about him?" Tucker shifted his body around. "Danny, couldn't we do this is some place bigger? This place is too small to stand up straight and it's too small to fit both of us."

"Tucker, it's fine," Danny snapped. "Lunch is going to be over soon, and I'll have to spend the rest of the day with Dash. What do I do about Kwan?"

"Well, what can you do?" Tucker said. "If you make it public, people wouldn't understand."

"Well, how do I _not_ make it public?" Danny asked desperately. "I … would they? Hate me? I mean, I'm a hero. Danny Phantom's a hero, I mean. Kwan's just a jock. It should be no contest, right, if they had to choose?"

"Dude, you are putting way too much faith into the hero deal," Tucker replied. "The public is notoriously fickle when it comes to siding with their heroes. Why do you think they always wear masks? You should think about doing that, by the way."

Danny banged his head back against the wall of the closet glumly.

"The thing about heroes is," Tucker continued, "you become a one-dimensional character. Good versus evil, and nothing in between. If they see you doing something bad, it's all black-and-white to them."

"So what should I do?" Danny asked quietly.

Tucker sighed. "Danny, I don't know. I'm still trying to keep up with what you told us last night. But you manage to find ways to go ghost in private, you'll have to find some way to deal with this in private to. You just have to fix it."

They didn't say anything more, both suddenly feeling very tired of the situation. A few moments later, bright sunlight swam into the room, and Danny and Tucker squinted to see Lancer blinking down at them in surprise.

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"Where are you?" Danny asked, pressing the cellphone to his ear. With his right hand, he steered the wheel of the car to park outside his house.

"Practice," Dash said on the other end of the line. "You're not waiting for me, are you?"

"No," Danny said, cutting the engine. "I just got home actually. I wish I'd known though, I'd have hung out with Sam and Tucker."

"Coach is really riding our ass about it," Dash muttered. "He hasn't forgiven me for canceling practice while he was away. I should go before he starts looking for me."

"When will you get out?" Danny asked.

"Four-thirty. I've got to go."

"Bye," Danny hung up. The unexpected free time left him wondering what to do. He was still sitting in his car; he could call his friends up. All day long he'd been so worried about the fact that there was no time to talk to them about Kwan outside of school hours because he'd have to spend the whole afternoon with Dash – and most likely Kwan himself – but really, what else was there to say? His talk with Tucker that afternoon had shown him that his friends were just as lost trying to control the situation as he was. He'd have to do this al one.

Getting out of the car, he trudged inside the house and up to his room. Booting up his computer, he tried to think of a way to pass the time. The responsible side of him told him that he should seize this opportunity to come up with an idea to take care of the ghost possessing Kwan, and so, logging on to the Internet, he typed 'ghost' and 'Tyrant' on to the search engine.

Browsing through the results, Danny was disappointed to find that there was nothing relevant to his query. Apparently this ghost hadn't done much terrorizing, nor was he part of popular fable like some ghosts such as Prince Aragon and Lady Dorathea.

Returning to the search engine, Danny knew that his only chance of finding out more about Tyrant would be to ask around the Ghost Zone; he didn't feel like returning there so soon though. And, he comforted himself, there would be no way for him to return back to the human world without someone to open the doors to the portal, so he would not be able to venture inside unless Sam or Tucker were around to man the controls.

Blankly, he stared at the engine, then on more of a whim than anything else, he leaned forward and typed in 'sucking dick', and clicked the search button.

It was only until the results returned a moment later than he realized what he had done.

"Gross," he mumbled. Why had he typed that? He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. Danny moved the mouse up to close the window, but sat there thoughtfully, and, then before he gave himself the chance to think twice, brought it back down and clicked on the first link offered,

The picture depicting a woman on her knees servicing a man sitting on a chair allowed him to let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. He wasn't sure how he would have handled it if the image had displayed two men at it.

"Okay, enough of that now," he said to himself softly, closing the window, and pushing his chair back to leave.

A second later, he rushed back to it, and accessed the Internet again, and this time, typed in as quickly as possible, as though to not give his brain a chance to process what was being done, the words 'gay' and 'sucking dick', and hit the search button.

When the results came, he kept his eyes nearly closed, clicking on a random link. Slowly, he allowed himself to see what was on the page, and let out a disturbed moan. What was he doing?

But it was like a smoky hand had wrapped itself around his brain and wouldn't let go until he had satisfied his need for the sordid details. His lip curled, Danny took in the sight of a naked man with his head and back tossed back in an exaggerated form while another kneeled before him with his cheeks pulled in, wrapped around the man's penis. Flashing links invited Danny to take a tour of the site or to register, and offered a place for him to sign in as a member.

Numbly, he explored the site, clicking on links and absorbing the images that followed. Something in the recesses of his mind told him that this was wrong, that it went against everything he had been so sure of in his life, and to turn back now, but his curiosity was more important. He needed to know what he was getting himself into.

Danny wasn't sure how much time had passed by when he was jolted out of his task by his cellphone ringing. With his heart pounding, giving one last glance to screen again, he dug his hand inside his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Hello," he greeted breathlessly.

"Danny? Where are you?" Sam asked on the other end of the line.

"Uh, at home," Danny said. "Why?"

"Look, Paulina just sent me a message," Sam told him. "She's making plans for us to go shopping this weekend. I thought it would be a good chance to start the plan—"

"Sam, I hope you don't think that there's any way that I would possibly help you out with this plan of yours," Danny said flatly, "because I thought I made it perfectly clear that I want no part in it."

"I _know_," Sam said impatiently. "That's not what I was about to say. I want you to bring Dash along as well."

Danny straightened up in his seat. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because we don't know how high up this Kwan thing goes," Sam told him. "Don't you think the next step should be to interrogate his friends? It's not like you can go and beat him up right now."

"So you don't think I should check out the Ghost Zone?" Danny didn't think he'd ever heard Sam pass up the chance to have him go into the Ghost Zone before. Sam snorted.

"Of course I think you should go into the Ghost Zone. That's a given."

"Then why—"

"You said Kwan's been acting weird for a while right?" Sam reminded. "Well, Tucker and I didn't notice because we don't hang out with him. Dash and Paulina do. This way we can find out more about what he's been up to, how long he's been operating, stuff like that."

"Sam, we already know all that stuff," Danny pointed out, turning his attention back to the screen. "He's trying to get the Plasmius soul, and it doesn't matter how long he's been operating, he's possessing someone and he needs to be stopped."

"I don't think you quite realize the potential here," Sam said. "Walker isn't going to give you any information."

Danny frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"Anything he could have gotten out of Bullet, Walker would have already had by now," Sam said. "All this finding-a-way-to-break-him stuff is taking too long. Either Bullet's not talking or Walker's keeping something from you."

"Walker wants to maintain order," Danny said. "We both do."

"Walker is a ghost, Danny!" Sam insisted. "You can keep waiting to see what he gets out of Bullet, but just in case, here's another person we can get information from who doesn't look like he's about to run away any time soon. Do I need to remind you that while you're waiting for Walker to throw you something, the ghosts are still trying to get to the Plasmius soul, and they're getting more and more violent each time? Those last two were positively barbaric!"

"Okay," Danny said slowly, "you want to get information from whatever's possessing Kwan. What do Dash and Paulina have to do with this?"

"If they're his friends, they would have noticed something going on with him," Sam rationalized. "They have the inside scoop that we don't. It'd totally make up for the whole spying thing you were supposed to do but never got around to."

"I—"

"I'm not placing blame," Sam said in a soothing voice, smiling at the image in her mind of Danny angrily trying to protest, "I'm just saying, it turns out you were right, and we should have investigated. This will totally make up for it. It's always good to learn as much about your enemy as you can before you face him. Once we get all our information, we could totally back him into a corner."

"And we can't back him into a corner physically because…?"

"Because he happened to choose one of the most popular boys in school as his host body, and getting into a fight with that body in a school obsessed with popularity is not the best idea," Sam said confidently. "But if we start pointing out that Kwan's been acting 'differently', not only will we put Dash and Paulina on the lookout, but that loudmouthed she-devil will spread it to everybody within city limits. That's when he realizes he can't blend in anymore, and that's when he comes out. And we'll be there to catch him when he does."

"Okay, but you said this weekend. You realize I gave Walker until this Friday to come up with the scoop, right?"

"You realize I just spent this conversation telling you Walker's not going to tell you anything, right?" Sam mocked. "If he does say something, it might not even be about this ghost. And if it does … well, I could still use some help on the Deconstructing Paulina plan."

"Why do we need to wait until this weekend then?" Danny asked.

"To build up trust," Sam said. "Or something like it. You may be all buddy-buddy with Dash now, but I've still got to work on Paulina, though she doesn't seem to be very resistant. It'd be weird if we spent the one day we started socializing with them talking with Kwan instead of building up to it. In the meantime, you work on Dash."

Danny fixed his eyes on the pictures on the flickering screen. "Oh yeah, I'll work on Dash," he said grimly.

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Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up, short as it may be. I've had to deal with the semester ending, which means assignments and exams all coming to a head. Now that I'm on break, I hope to get more chapters are soon. Thanks for your patience.


	21. Your Soul Shall Find Itself Alone

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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The week passed by quickly, with several aggravated teachers reprimanding their students for their cavalier attitude and warnings about how colleges were still watching them and had the power to rescind their offers if the students did not maintain their grades.

"Whatever," Tucker said casually to a clearly infuriated Lancer one day. "It's not like we're on scholarships or anything."

"That may be so, Mister Foley," Lancer breathed, "but your education did not cease with passing your SATs last year. Believe it or not, senior year actually counts for something."

It had been a valiant effort on his part, but Danny could have told him not to waste his breath. Any zest the seniors had managed to scrounge up at the start of the school year had burned out after Christmas.

Danny, for his part, was feeling the edges of laziness seep into other aspects of his life as well. His newfound desire to explore every inch of Dash's body, and vice-versa, seemed to consume all his time that wasn't spent keeping up the charade during school hours, and found himself starting to neglect everything that couldn't be done within five minutes.

"I wish I could take five-minute showers," he muttered one day against Dash's body where he was licking the area between the blonde's pectorals.

Dash ran his fingers through Danny's thick hair, grinned, and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, you do smell kind of ripe," he teased. "How many weeks has it been now?"

Danny gave him a soft punch in the stomach, then started caressing the tight muscles there. "Shut up," he said. Dash chuckled. They lay on Danny's bed, the smaller boy pressed up against the bigger, his face nuzzled in Dash's chest.

Danny looked up with a serious expression on his face. "How gay do you think this is?" he asked softly.

"Very," Dash said honestly. "But I don't care. It's experimenting."

Danny nodded. "I never thought you would need to resort to experiments. I never thought _I_ would resort to experiments."

Dash wrapped his arms around Danny's waist, hidden under the blanket, and pulled him into a kiss. "Stranger things have happened," he said. He lowered his head, kissing Danny's neck, while on of his hands loosened its grip around the boy and hooked into the waistband of his boxers.

"We have to meet Sam and Paulina at the mall on Saturday," Danny blurted out suddenly.

Dash paused in surprise. "Why?"

Danny slid off him, his boxers still intact, rolling to the side, and fixed his wide eyes on Dash's own. "Sam caved," he said. "Paulina can be very pushy. She wants us there for moral support."

"She wants _us_ there for moral support?" Dash quirked an eyebrow.

"Well," Danny amended, "she wants me there." His hand trailed along Dash's forearm and he gave the jock another intense stare. "I want you there."

Something flickered in Dash's eyes; Danny saw it, but didn't understand it. Dash pulled his arm away from those fingers that grazed it, and folded them over his chest, eyes focused ahead, and gave a curt nod.

Puzzled, Danny tried to say something, but he didn't know what.

"Listen," Dash spoke for him, "I've got to get going."

"What, now?" Danny was taken aback. "But we were just getting started."

"I know," Dash replied. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and got to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You are coming, aren't you?" Danny didn't like the mild tone of desperation in his voice.

"I said I would," Dash pulled up his pants, and slid his tight black shirt back on, wrapping his letterman jacket around his arm. Danny started to say goodbye, but the door was shut before he managed to get the words out. He lay there, stupefied, his bewildered mind trying to find an explanation as to what had just happened.

Danny scooped up his shirt from the floor with the tips of his fingers and tossed it back on, and grabbed his jeans, hastily zipping it and buttoning it up as he rushed down the stairs. He grabbed the phone in the kitchen and dialed Sam's number.

"Sam? Come over. Bring Tucker,' he ordered.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Danny opened it to see Sam and Tucker standing on the other side.

"Whoa, what happened to _you_?" Tucker asked.

"Nothing," Danny said, hurriedly brushing off several locks of hair matter down by dots of sweat on his forehead. "Come in."

"What's going on?" Sam questioned blankly.

"Have you forgotten I'm supposed to go into the Ghost Zone today?" Danny reminded her.

"And you're actually hurrying us to do it? I thought you hated going in there."

"I do," Danny said. "But I have to know what's going on. Come on."

"Hold on, why are you being so weird?" Tucker held up his hands. "You're talking so fast I can barely understand you."

"Yeah, what's going on?" Sam repeated.

Danny's hand was already on the knob of the door leading down into his parents' laboratory. He sighed. "Remember when we were talking about who else might be overshadowed by a ghost the other day? I haven't been able to get my mind off it. I think Dash might be."

"Where did this come from?" Sam asked in slight surprise.

Danny glared. "You were the one who implied it!"

"Yeah, but what makes you so sure?" Sam asked. "I only brought it up because it's such a weird coincidence how everything worked out to Tyrant's advantage."

"I – I don't know." Danny could have hardly told them that the basis of his suspicion was Dash's abrupt departure when they'd been about to get off together. "It's just … a big coincidence, that's all. You were right. And besides, if you want to overshadow a popular kid, you can't go any higher than Dash Baxter."

"It's true," Tucker conceded. "Why settle for the sidekick when you could have the star?"

"Unless it's because someone with a higher power is already possessing him," Danny finished. "It makes sense. Dash just started bringing Kwan for no reason at all." 'Except because he thought I was insane and needed backup,' Danny thought guiltily.

"Has Kwan been coming around since?" Tucker asked.

"No. Not since I found out about him," Danny informed. He turned to Sam. "And it could explain why Paulina's so interested in you now. Who knows how far this thing has spread. The entire school could be overshadowed by now!"

"Danny, not that you don't have a point, but you're starting to sound a little paranoid," Sam said uncertainly.

"Hey, it's happened before," Danny said. "Maybe not to the whole school, but the ghosts want the Plasmius soul, and who knows what they're going to do to get it. That's why I've got to find out what's going on right now. I'm hoping that if Walker has anything, we won't have to go with Dash and Paulina tomorrow."

"What?" Tucker sounded startled. "Where are you guys going with Dash and Paulina?"

"The mall," Sam said offhandedly.

"Oh, and why wasn't I invited to this?" Tucker put his hands on his hips.

"Only allowed if you have your self-absorbed leech," Sam started forward. "Come on."

Downstairs, Tucker and Sam waited by the control panel as Danny made the change into his alter-ego.

"How long do you think you'll take?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Danny said honestly. "If Walker doesn't tell me anything, five minutes. If he does, then it depends on what he has to say."

They nodded, and the heavy doors slid open. With a few steps forward, Danny was completely encompassed by the green swill.

The doors closed behind him, and Danny floated through the endless vortex until he reached the familiar prison.

Walker was already waiting for him when he slid through the walls.

"Your time is up," Danny said when his sneakers steadily touched the stone floor. "What have you got?"

"Plenty," Walker boomed.

Danny raised his eyebrows. "Plenty, huh? How convenient."

"Shall we go into my office?"

"Why aren't you in your office anyway?" Danny questioned. "Don't tell me you were waiting for me."

"Why wouldn't I?" Walker said slickly. "You wanted information, didn't you?"

A feeling of foreboding rose inside him, but Danny quelled it. Walker led him into his office, where Danny braced himself to find a dozen guards ready to assault him, but there was nothing.

"Sit down," Walker commanded. "We have lots to talk about, kid."

Danny took a seat, trying to steel himself to accept anything. "Why does he want the Plasmius soul?"

"He wants it to inhabit him," Walker said bluntly. "All the ghosts do."

"Can they do that?" Danny knew that he was able to merge with the Vlad's powers, but he was only half a ghost; whether or not full-fledged ghosts could do the same, he wasn't sure.

"Of course they can," Walker said. "That thing isn't a ghost; it doesn't have a body. It's just a spirit. It can slip into any host that decides to take control of it, just like yours would if it wasn't already inside you."

"So why do the ghosts want it?"

"Power," Walker said simply.

Danny snorted. "No, seriously? _Why_ do they want power?"

Here, Walker gave a cold smile. "Because of me, of course."

Danny stared.

"I'm a very powerful person here, Phantom. I'm sure you know. I've made a lot of enemies in all my centuries of being. These people are starved for power, because I've kept it from them. And now that they see their chance, they'll do anything to get it."

"You expect me to believe that all this trouble I'm going through is because of you?" Danny laughed.

"Is it so hard to believe?" Walker said flatly. "Maybe you'd like another round of my prison. – just to jog your memory."

This sobered Danny right up. "So what did Bullet say to you?"

"Exactly what I told you, and he wasn't happy to do it."

"Where is he now?" Danny was almost afraid to ask.

"In a cell," Walker told him curtly. "He will be dealt with. Dissension in the ranks is not something I'm prepared to tolerate. It's going to be a long eternity for Bullet."

Danny almost wanted to point out that there was hardly anything that Walker was prepared to tolerate, but kept his mouth shut. Untouchable or not, he was still in the lair of one of the most feared ghosts in the Ghost Zone.

"Now," Walker's empty eyes fixed on him, "I want something out of you."

"What?"

Walker leaned forward on his desk. "Whatever ghosts you find after the soul, I want you to bring to me."

"But—"

"Here, to this prison." He leaned back against his chair again, an imposing look on his bone-white face. "Any ghost wanting to do away with me, I will deal with personally. All I need is for you to bring them to me. Once I've drilled it into their heads, no one else will dare try anything. And if they do…" he gave another cold smile. "It's a big prison."

A feeling of dread overcame Danny; his eyes slid off to a spot on the wall over Walker's shoulder, silent. The offer was tempting, if it was indeed even an offer at all. What did he care what became of the ghosts here. Walker was certainly a force to be reckoned with; and he was on his, Danny's, side. He wouldn't have to deal with them again once Walker's message got through to them.

"What do you know about a ghost named Tyrant?" he asked.

Walker's face never creased. "I've never heard the name."

Danny looked up at him. "So he's never done anything?"

"He's no one I've come across," Walker confirmed. "But then again, they're all coming out of the woodwork now."

"If you've never heard of him," Danny said slowly, "then why is he interested in the Plasmius soul? What would he have against you?"

"My reputation spreads far and wide, Ghost-kid," Walker stated. "I don't know even half of the ghosts in this place, but you can be sure my name echoes loud and clear with them. I am, and have been, the most feared ghost in all of the Ghost Zone for years. And now, they're going to fear me just a little bit more."

Getting up from the chair, feeling slightly numb and dazed, Danny lolled his head in a kind of nod, and stepped through the solid walls. Walker watched him go, sitting still so that he could detect any sign of the boy coming back, then, when he was sure he wouldn't, said, "Come in, Bullet."

The door opened, and the purple ghost stepped in. "How did it go?"

"Perfectly," Walker brought the tips of his fingers together, eyes still set on the wall which Danny Fenton had just gone through.

"No hitches?"

"Did I say there were any hitches?" Walker retorted. "No, the boy ate it up, just like I said he would. And now, all we have to do is wait until I decide the time is right." The gloom of the prison cast itself upon his face. "And that time will come very soon."

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Tucker was looking pointedly away when Danny stepped back through the portal.

"Five minutes," Sam said. "I knew it. He didn't tell you anything, did he?"

"Actually, he told me everything." Danny nodded Tucker. "What's with him?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "He's still mad about Saturday's thing."

"I have a name, you know," Tucker said frostily.

"Tucker, it doesn't even matter," Danny said in irritation. "If you're so concerned about it, you can take my place tomorrow. I don't care."

Tucker turned back around, a sullen look on his face. "What happened to all that talk about cherishing every moment we have together and all that?"

"We're still going to spend time together," Sam replied. "One day doesn't matter."

"Yeah, sure," Tucker muttered, but huddled closer to them so that he could catch every word of what Danny was about to say.

Shrugging off his friend's strange behavior, Danny launched into the story Walker had just told him. Tucker and Sam both listened raptly, but really there wasn't much to tell.

"It seems plausible enough," Tucker mused.

"I don't know," Sam objected. "All of this effort just for him? Seems a little egotistical, don't you think?"

"It might be self-indulgent, but that doesn't necessarily mean it isn't true," Danny said. "Walker's got a lot of pull in the Ghost Zone, and a lot of them are sick of the things he does."

"You're a more powerful ghost though," Sam told him. "You've kicked every single ghost butt that's come to town for four years now. Why would they go through you just to get rid of him?"

"Because after Danny kicks their butts, he tosses them right back into the Ghost Zone, where Walker's on the prowl," Tucker surmised.

"He's right," Danny told Sam. "I may be able to kick ass, but Walker's more of the slow-painful-torture type. And when you can't die, that's a lot of torture."

"I'm still not satisfied," Sam said firmly. "It's a very convenient excuse."

But there was nothing else to make of it, so for the time being, Sam consented to let the topic slide, but not before pointing out that even if Walker was the reason for the ghosts searching for the Plasmius soul – "Which is complete bullshit," she took care to add – it didn't mean that it was going to end just because both he and Danny were on the same page. Danny closed the door behind them and returned to his room, looking outside the window to see his two friends talking animatedly as they crossed the street. Briefly he considered calling Dash to come over, but remembering his abrupt departure earlier, decided against it. The boy couldn't have been more desperate to escape if he had clawed Danny's face to get away from him. Glumly, Danny threw himself on his bed.

Was Dash reconsidering this 'arrangement' of theirs? It wasn't out of the question; they had rushed in to it without ever pausing to think – or at least, Danny had.

He supposed it wouldn't be so bad. Together, the two of them had lived in a sort of limbo, outside the real world. It would have been mildly uncomfortable to return to reality, he supposed. It seemed to be so in the movies, with very bleak outcomes awaiting all involved from the way Hollywood portrayed it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Danny whipped it out, his heart leaping. Squinting his eyes to read the message, he was disappointed to find that it was only Sam reminding him about tomorrow's appointment.

Still, it was something. Dash would be there tomorrow. Maybe they could talk then.

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Saturday came, the shining sun and cloudless sky determined to spread good cheer. Danny had decided to walk to the mall instead of drive, enjoying the warmth. He had overestimated the venture though; by the time he reached the mall, he was perspiring heavily and his legs ached.

Closing his eyes as a cool blast of air hit his face when he walked in, he decided that he would have to think things more thoroughly before he did them.

Passing by a clothes shop, Danny thought he heard someone calling his name. He looked wildly over his shoulder, then caught sight of someone gesturing to him wildly. Walking into the store, he realized it was Sam, dressed as he had never seen her before in a hideous green dress, with piles of makeup caking her face.

"I've been here for an _hour_," she said out of the corner of her mouth.

Danny checked the clock at the top corner of his phone. It was only eleven.

"An hour? I thought I was early," he remarked.

"She wanted to get here as soon as the place opened!" Sam whined. "She wouldn't let me call you because she wanted to spend some 'girl time', and Danny, it's been torture! She dragged me to the cosmetics booth and put all of this _stuff_ on me – I feel like my entire head is dragging me down – and now she's got me trying all these ugly clothes on because it's 'couture' or something." She gripped his arms tightly. "You have got to get me out of here."

Feeling a vindictive pleasure to see her suffering like this, Danny peeled himself away from her grasp. "I thought you wanted to deconstruct her," he smirked.

'Deconstruct her!" Sam threw her arms up. "I can't even handle one hour with her. I—"

"Sam, you've got to try on this dress!" Paulina chirped, coming up from behind. Catching sight of Danny, her face fell slightly. "Oh, what are you doing here."

"I thought we were supposed to … hang out today," Danny replied.

"Oh, we are," Paulina said. "But I wanted to come extra-early to get Sam here all dolled up." She reached out and pinched one of Sam's cheeks. "She really needs it too. Look how miserable she looks."

Danny held back his laughter. Sam's arms shook. Paulina looked upset.

"Oh, no!" she said. "I've smeared the makeup. We're going to have to fix that."

"No!" Sam yelped, jumping behind Danny. "No, it's okay. I'll – I'll just wash it off."

"Wash it off?" Paulina tittered. "We spent almost an hour on it. We'll just go back and get the lady to put it back on. She won't mind – not unless she wants me to run her out of business."

She pushed the new dress, a red one that was just as ugly as the one Sam currently had on, into the Goth's arms. "I'd been hoping to do your hair too, but now that Danny's here, I don't think we can … unless he doesn't mind waiting?"

"I don't mind," he said quickly.

"_Danny!_" Sam howled.

"Excellent. Now, go try this one on," she shoved Sam into one of the dressing rooms.

Danny bit his lip, but couldn't keep his lips from curling upwards.

"Those dresses are really not working for her," Paulina mused, returning to stand by him. "They're supposed to accentuate her hips, but she has none. Girls like her make me feel so lucky."

"Oh, I don't know," Danny smirked. "I kind of like them."

Paulina beamed.

"Uh, Paulina," Danny tried to think of a way to phrase his sentence discreetly, "you weren't trying to doll up Sam for _me_, were you?"

"What, and steal you away from Dash?" Paulina said.

Danny's eyes widened, his worst fears confirmed. "So you know?"

"Of course I know," Paulina said breezily. "Kwan and I saw you."

"_What?_" Danny exclaimed. "When?"

"At my party," she informed. "We were on the balcony."

The door slammed open, and Sam stormed out. "I am not wearing this," she declared.

"No," Paulina said. "It makes you look pregnant."

Sam gaped.

"Oh, don't worry, nobody's going to think you're _really _pregnant," Paulina consoled. "I mean, who would impregnate you?"

The next hour flew by with highly amusing results. "Oh, Sam, you're wearing that backwards!" Paulina had scolded in one instance.

"I _know_ I'm wearing it backwards," Sam gritted her teeth. "It's less revealing that way."

Finally, Dash had strolled into the shop, and, upon seeing Sam in another ludicrous number, raised his eyebrow.

"You're late," Paulina tapped her foot.

"I thought you liked it when people are late," Dash said unconcernedly.

"I do, but Danny's been here for like an hour, and I've been making Sam here try on dresses because we thought you were going to show up any minute; we could have had her hair done by now."

"At least you managed to keep yourself entertained," Dash replied coolly.

"I am not getting my hair done," Sam said loudly. Paulina didn't even bother to look at her.

"Let's just get something to eat," Danny said wearily. Humorous though the results had been, men were apparently not built to withstand an hour watching girls try on dresses. Amid some grumbling about how the day had been wasted, Sam and Paulina both having opposite perspectives as to why, the group left the store without anything in tow because Sam had put her foot down and refused to let Paulina buy any of the numbers.

"I think we need to talk," Danny told Dash when the two girls trailed behind them enough to be out of earshot.

"No, we don't," Dash said flatly.

"Why did you leave like that yesterday?" Danny persisted.

"I was tired," Dash replied.

"We were on a _bed_."

"Christ, Fenton, drop it," Dash snapped, catching Sam and Paulina's attention.

"What's going on?" Sam asked warily.

"Nothing," Dash said rudely.

Sam turned to Danny. "Nothing," he replied, keeping his eyes cast downward.

Tensions were high as they sat down at a table at the food court with a dish of nacho cheese between them. Paulina had turned away in disgust from it, and Dash had simply kept his eyes fixed somewhere above their heads the whole time, so Sam had ended up devouring the entire thing with Danny quietly nibbling on a couple of pieces of his own.

Failing to catch Danny's eye, Sam tried to keep the conversation going in hopes of broaching the subject of Kwan along the way.

"So Dash," she said brightly, "why were you so late?"

Dash gave her an insolent stare and had been about to turn away when Danny stepped on his foot. Sighing heavily, he said "Gym."

"On a Saturday," Sam tried to appear interested.

"Yes, on a Saturday," Dash mocked. "Athletes have to train, you know. Will you stop kicking me?" he added to Danny.

"Sorry," Danny said, not feeling the least bit sorry at all. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"So …" Sam tried once again to catch Danny's eye, but missed, "where do you want to go next."

No one replied.

"We could go catch a movie," Sam offered.

Again, she was met with silence.

She rolled her eyes. "Will someone say _something_?"

"I'm not really in the mood," Danny told her. She glared at him.

"All the movies playing here suck," Dash said.

"And none of the good stuff will come out until next month," Paulina said.

"Well, then let's do something."

"This mall sucks," Dash sighed.

"Jeez, you're more of a downer than her," Paulina commented.

Danny felt a flash of anger stir within him. "At least she's trying," he interjected. "I don't see you two coming up with any bright ideas."

"Neither are you," Dash pointed out, straightening up.

"If you don't want to be here—"

"I don't," Dash retorted.

"Then why don't you leave?"

"Fine!" Dash made a motion to stand up, but suddenly froze, his eyes wide.

The other three turned to see what he was looking at, and Danny instantly wished he hadn't.

Tucker was sauntering up to them, head thrown back and chest puffed out, his hips swinging from end to end. In his mind, Danny could guess, he thought he looked like a model – a female one, evidently, sashaying down the runway.

"Has this one gone gay too?" Paulina said snidely, causing Danny to stare furiously at her. Fortunately, Sam's attention was riveted on the approaching boy.

"Tucker, _what_ are you doing here?" she asked.

"Can't a guy just hang with his peeps every once in a while?" Tucker said in a cocky kind of tone. "What's goin' on?" he nodded to Dash, who looked as though his face was carved of stone. Uninvited, he pulled up a chair and slid into it. The four of them stared.

Tucker's grin faded somewhat, and an abashed look started to come over his face.

"I believe I was just leaving," Dash pushed his chair back and started to stand up again.

"Wait," Sam cried desperately. "Um … how's Kwan?"

Dash stared at her as though she were crazy.

"Okay, okay," she acquiesced, "you want to do something? Fine. I know just the place we can go."

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The five teenagers stood outside the establishment, starting at the flashing sign above.

"Are you sure it's wise to bring these guys here?" Danny asked. Dash and Paulina were beginning to look quite unnerved, and Danny wasn't very fond of this place either.

"I had to pull out the big guns," Sam whispered to him. Reaching out, she pushed the door opened, and they stepped inside the bleak store, where it was so dark Danny almost instantly forgot that it was the middle of the day.

"I didn't think this place opened at this time of day," Paulina said in a hushed tone.

"Of course it does," Sam said in a falsely cheerful voice. "It's not run by vampires."

The Skulk & Lurk wasn't a typical hangout for most people their age – or most people in town for that matter. Were Danny not such a close friend, he wouldn't have known that this place opened in the daytime either.

"Why are we here?" Dash eyed some of the customers who were eyeing him right back.

"You wanted to go somewhere interesting."

"I don't think I actually said that, no," Dash responded.

"Why don't you go get us a table," Sam said to Danny. "I'm going to make sure they don't throw us out or anything."

"I think that would be the best idea," Tucker said. "Throwing us out, that is," he muttered under his breath when Sam left. The four of them walked slowly to a table, Danny reflecting on how ridiculous they were acting; it wasn't as if someone was going to lunge out and bite them if they made any sudden movements or anything. All the same, he didn't try to quicken his pace.

As they settled in, he caught sight of the man Sam was talking to, a thin, bearded man with numerous piercings, watching them.

"Really, Sam," he shook his head, still staring at the four guests. "Prom king and queen? Between them and that jock you brought in last time, you are seriously damaging your reputation here."

"They're not prom king and queen," Sam laughed. 'We haven't had our prom yet,' she thought guiltily. "Besides, isn't Goth all about escaping labels?"

"Among other things," the man said distractedly.

"Come on, Tad, you know me," she appealed.

"Well why do you think I haven't thrown you guys out yet, huh?" he gave a half-smile. "But no readings. I don't trust them."

"Oh, no way," Sam shook her head. "No readings for them. They wouldn't know poetry if Poe inked it on their face."

"Right," Tad grunted, then shifted away to attend to a customer who had come to get some coffee. Sam returned to her friends' side.

"What was all that about?" Tucker asked instantly.

"Just making sure we understood each other," Sam said vaguely.

"Hey, Prom Queen!" Tad called from the counter. "Anything for you lot?"

Paulina looked instantly flattered, giving him a dainty look. "Well, I have been thinking of running," she giggled. "Of course, it's no competition really."

The man rolled his eyes and walked away. Sam buried her head in her hands. Danny patted her shoulder consolingly.

Onstage, the limelight flowed down on Tad as he took the microphone and introduced the next reader to scattered applause. An equally skinny guy with as many piercings came on. While reading the sonnet he had written, his eyes continuously danced around the dismal faces listening raptly before fixing upon the table where Danny, Dash, Paulina, Tucker and Sam sat. Dash snorted disdainfully.

"What a whiner," he sneered.

"Oh, shut up," Sam said darkly, then in a bright voice began to fire questions about the football team.

"You're not thinking of joining, are you?" Paulina asked. "Because that would be sad, even for you, Sam."

"I don't think I have the right build," Sam didn't seem fazed by Paulina's attitude.

The verse ended, and Tad took the stage again to introduce the next reader, a girl with heavy makeup around her eyes, whose piece wasn't so poetic as it was rant about how the darkness was all-consuming, and how everyone was desperate for escape yet was held back by the one they hated most. Danny wasn't quite sure what she was talking about, but perhaps that was the point.

Sam didn't seem to be listening at all. As the readers passed by, she simply kept thinking up more useless questions for Dash to answer. Dash looked like he was very tired of all this and was about ready to walk out on them again.

"You know, he's taken," Paulina said suddenly, which resulted in a four heads whipping in her direction.

"What?" Sam asked blankly.

"He's taken," Paulina said again. "Just in case you decided you suddenly had a thing for quarterbacks."

Dash's lip curled in disgust. "Is that what this is?" he said.

"Of course not," Sam said heatedly.

Dash shook his head. "Whatever. I am so out of here."

Sam tried to call him back, but the door shut behind him with a dull _thud_ before a word could leave her mouth. She got up too, and walked out of the store, leaving Danny and Tucker to stare at Paulina in disbelief. The popular girl shrugged, sipping her iced water. "He is," she said.

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Sam was marching home, her hands curled into fists, and seething, by the time Danny and Tucker found her. "That girl is the _worst_!" she voiced.

"You weren't really trying to pick Dash up, were you?" Tucker asked doubtfully.

"Don't be stupid, of course I wasn't," she shot. "I was _trying_ to see if they knew anything about Kwan, but every time I was about to start talking about him, she does something top completely ruin it! And you!" she rounded off on Tucker. "What were you doing here, anyway? I told you not to come, and that we were just hanging out with them because we had to!"

"Yeah, like I don't know how to go about ghost-hunting," Tucker said resentfully.

"Well, you ruined it, didn't you?" Sam hollered

"How did _I_ ruin it?" Tucker demanded. "You just got through saying Paulina ruined it."

"You both ruined it!" Sam burst out. "I was just about to start asking them about Kwan when you showed up and completely broke my rhythm. Why else do you think I would bring them to my hangout? And now it's all for nothing."

"Sam, there'll be other chances," Danny said soothingly.

"I am _not_ putting myself through that again," Sam growled. "If you want to spend more time with those jerks, then go right ahead, because I'm through."

Danny and Tucker didn't try to follow her when she turned around and resumed her stomping.

"She is unbelievable," Tucker said angrily. "That was completely unfair."

"Yeah, it was," Danny felt a twinge of guilt about the way he had treated Sam the whole day, but it was no reason for her to take it out on Tucker. "We can talk to her tomorrow."

"You talk to her," Tucker retorted. "There's no way I'm speaking to her unless she stops being such a tool for once and says sorry."

Danny didn't bother trying to change his mind. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the Skulk & Lurk," Tucker called over his shoulder, already making his way back.

'You'd better,' Danny thought darkly. Left alone in there, Paulina was likely to get raped and mauled.

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Author's Note: I'm very sorry to have taken so long with this chapter. After the semester let out, I started working, and that took up all of my time until I was left too exhausted each night to even look at the computer. Now that its over, I should have a bit more free time, though not as much I would like as I'm doing the summer semester to graduate quicker. Please leave your reviews, I cherish each one of them :)


	22. One Crack In The Ground Leads To Another

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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With the disastrous weekend behind him, Danny woke up on Monday morning with the full intent of seeking out Kwan and putting to rest the whole matter of Vlad's ghost half behind him.

He had spent the rest of his Saturday afternoon and the entire Sunday in his room avoiding any possible contact with his friends; apparently, they were doing the same, because he hadn't heard from Tucker or Sam the entire time, and unsurprisingly, Dash hadn't bothered to contact him either.

It didn't matter, Danny had decided then. Dash could do whatever he wanted, because he, Danny, had too many things to worry about already. And so, he had used this time to clear his head and learn again the reality of his life. This time had bolstered him, like a cocoon to prepare him for what was important, and right now, the only that mattered was to solve this mystery and move on.

He arrived to school early, knowing full well that it would be practically deserted. He would need to come in before Kwan did so that he had the upper hand if he wanted to ambush the other boy – or ghost, as the case may be. He only hoped that the jock wouldn't be surrounded by friends. If he was, then Danny would have no choice but to steal him away until he told him everything.

It was very interesting to see what the school was like before the students came in. The janitor, who was usually friendly in the few times Danny had struck up a conversation with him, skulked around the halls giving him the evil eye, sure that anyone who came in before all the streetlights outside were turned off was up to no good; teachers with half-lidded eyes dragged themselves in, making a beeline for the pot of coffee in the teachers' lounge; Danny had opened his mouth to say good morning to Mr. Lancer but the latter had shushed him with a dark look.

Beating a hasty retreat from the teacher's path, Danny spent the rest of his time wondering if he should wait for Kwan in a classroom or by hiding in one of the hall's alleyways. Opting for the alleyway, he willed himself to turn invisible.

Well, perhaps it wasn't the best idea to come in _this_ early. Minutes drifted on, and Danny slumped against the wall, completely bored. He watched with some amusement as the janitor rushed around, panicked, no doubt trying to find him, convinced that his sudden disappearing act meant that he was up to no good.

Finally, he heard students chattering as the school started to fill up. The school buses started to pull up, dropping off a load of freshman and sophomores. Soon, the upperclassmen started filing in too. Danny spotted Sam walking to her locker, and a few minutes later, Tucker came in too with a sour look on his face. Danny resisted the urge to abandon his vigil and go talk to them.

Checking the time on his cellphone, Danny bit his lip, noting that the bell was going to ring soon. There was still no sign of Kwan anywhere, although, he confessed, it probably wasn't the brightest idea to stand in one spot waiting for the jock to come to him. Still, there was nothing to be done about it now. Just as he was about to materialize again, he held his breath when he heard Dash's voice, followed by the man himself when he turned the corner. Danny's heart sank. Kwan was with him, and so were about a half-dozen other guys.

Squaring his shoulders, Danny decided that it was now or never. Bounding from his spot, he grabbed Kwan by the collar of his letterman jacket and dove into the ground with him into the school's boiler room, releasing him and allowing his momentum to fling Kwan's body to the wall. Kwan had turned tangible again as soon as Danny had let go, and hit the wall with a shrill yelp. Gasping for breath, he glared up at Danny with watery eyes. "Jeez, Danny, I still have to _breathe_, you know."

"Shut up," Danny said vehemently. The ball rang overhead, and the two of them heard the footsteps of the students pounding into their respective classrooms. Danny turned back to Kwan, not caring anymore that he was going to be late for class. "You're going to tell me everything."

"Tell you everything about what?" Kwan bit out.

"_Everything_," Danny reiterated in an imposing tone. "I want to know all about this obsession the ghosts have with the Plasmius soul. I want to know why you possessed my friend, and how, and I want to know why you think you're helping me."

I can't." Kwan shook his head.

"You will." Danny's hands started to glow with a green tinge.

"I _can't_," Kwan said loudly.

"Why not?" Danny challenged. "Who are you working for? Tell me or I'll destroy the soul right now!"

"_No!_" Kwan's eyes were wide with fear. "If you destroy it, you'll kill us all!"

"What are you _talking_ about?" Danny growled in frustration. He was so tired of going around in circles.

Kwan was breathing hard now, and with a deep sigh, hung his head and told him, "There's a war coming."

"You mean the war against Walker," Danny said when Kwan didn't offer anything more. Kwan lifted his head, a frown on his face.

"Yes," he said slowly. "The war against Walker."

"Why is there a war?"

"The ghosts are sick of him," Kwan said. "They will not take it anymore."

"But why now?" Danny pressed. "After all this time?"

"We have an opportunity now," Kwan told him. "Unused power which a ghost can possess for himself. If there were ever a time to strike—"

"Then why are you keeping the soul away from them?" Danny demanded. "You told me you were here to protect it."

Kwan's eyes darted wildly.

"Who knows what would happen if it got into the wrong hands," he said. "This power doesn't just revolve around defeating Walker, the consequences will be forever-long. You can be sure that it will be abused, and we will be right back where we started."

"So you don't want Walker gone?" Danny surmised.

"It's not worth the risk. Not yet."

Danny relaxed his fighting stance. Another question resolved. It seemed that this mystery was finally coming to an end. "You're going to have to get out of my friend," he told the ghost awkwardly. His rage was dissipated for the moment, and now all he could think of was the fact that he was late for class again, and the fact that if not for the ghost inside him, Danny probably would never refer to Kwan as one of his friends. It was a strange realization that left him wondering where he stood. "Oh, yeah, that reminds me – is there someone overshadowing Dash?"

"The Jock God?" Kwan raised an eyebrow. "None that I know of. Then again, I don't work with others; I wouldn't be the person to ask. Why, do you think he is?"

"Oh!" Danny swept a hand through his black hair conscientiously. "No reason. I was just wondering."

Kwan raised an eyebrow. "I already know you like him," he said. "I saw the two of you fucking—"

"We were _not_ fucking!" Danny said loudly.

"—around the other day," Kwan finished with a smirk.

"Oh," Danny said meekly. He remembered Paulina telling him that she and Kwan had spotted them together at her party.

"And now you're worried that he's being possessed, and, what, that he won't remember any of this when the ghost leaves him?" Kwan guessed.

Danny blushed. "No! It's just my job. Whatever's going on between me and Dash is totally beside the point. I can't have a ghost overshadowing a student right under my own nose. I've been beating myself up over not figuring out you were possessing Kwan as it is, I don't need another one to get past me."

"All right then, now that we've got this settled, I'll see you at your house after school," Kwan got to his feet, raised his head high and began to saunter off.

"Hold on," Danny called back. "There's still the little matter of you overshadowing a student?"

Kwan grinned. "Danny, trust me, you're not going to want me to leave this body just yet. We could be in a world of trouble if I do."

"What do you mean?" Danny's fears began to rise again.

"Never mind," Kwan said breezily. "But you'll need my help beating back those ghosts. You can count on that."

Needless to say, by the time he took his seat in American History – receiving a stern lecture from Lancer, who seemed much perkier now that he'd had his morning coffee – Danny's nerves were shot. He had walked slowly all the way from the boiler room to class wondering with every step what Kwan meant. He knew that he was referring to the ghost attacks, but couldn't understand why he was so certain Danny would be requiring his help. He understood that the ghosts were desperate for the soul, but he had been fighting ghosts for four years now, and so far none of them had gotten what they wanted.

Deciding to forget it for now, he spent the lecture sending messages to Sam and Tucker on his cellphone, which he kept out of sight under his desk so that Lancer wouldn't confiscate it.

'So you just let him walk away from you without doing anything?' Sam's message asked.

'Yeah,' Danny messaged back.

'I can't say I'm very comforted.'

Danny didn't want to argue. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to just let Kwan walk away scott-free, but he was tired of stumbling all over himself trying to find out what was going on. Right now, he just felt exhausted with the burden Vlad had placed on him, and Kwan seemed convinced he had some bigger role to play, and Danny _just didn't care right now_. Sighing heavily, he pocketed the phone and focused on the lulling drone of Mr. Lancer's voice.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where's Dash?" Kwan asked as soon as he stepped into the house.

Danny, changed into a very baggy shirt and a pair of sweatpants, shrugged carelessly.

"Lovers' quarrel?" Kwan laughed.

"Hey, you don't even live in this realm. You have no right to judge," Danny sat back down in front of the television. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your bodyguard, baby," he winked.

Danny was left unimpressed. "I should just zap you into the Fenton Thermos, but I can't really bring myself to care go through all this bullshit right now."

He gave a wan smile. 'This is nice. I haven't felt this numb since I was twelve.'

Kwan shrugged. "Whatever." He lay down on another couch, closing his eyes as Danny continued to watch television. "Give me a call if you need me to help you with a ghost."

"You know, for a bodyguard, you didn't really do much of anything when you followed me around," Danny commented. "Mostly you would just stay invisible and I didn't know you were there. In fact, you were more of a hindrance since you were blocking my ghost powers all the time."

"I tossed you the Fenton Thermos," Kwan reminded lazily.

"And that's about all you did," Danny felt an edge to his voice, so allowed the argument to slide.

Kwan tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. "Can I try out your ghost equipment?"

"On the list of dumbest things I could ever do, I think that would be about number three."

Kwan grinned. "Is Dash number one?"

"I haven't done Dash," Danny said curtly. "And for your information, he's number two."

"Oh, so being with him is not the end of the world then?"

"What makes you say that?"

"You said he was only number two – which means being with him is still conceivable, doesn't it?"

Danny shrugged. "Sure, it's conceivable. Number one is conceivable too." As a matter of fact, number one had once been more than conceivable, but thanks to Clockwork, Danny had managed not to stray down that road again. "But now, being with Dash is just going to be a distant memory."

He had no idea why he said that. Kwan raised his eyebrow in response.

"The two of you broke up?"

Danny shrugged listlessly. "Don't tell me you were hoping for a faghag position."

"What's that?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Can I try your ghost equipment?"

"No."

"Oh, come on!" Kwan whined. "How am I supposed to help protect you if I don't get in any practice rounds?"

"Don't you have your own powers you can use?"

"Sure," Kwan said, "but those guys have powers too."

"Never stopped me before."

"It might stop me. Can I try it?"

Danny sighed. He was not in the mood to carry on. "Sure, whatever." He turned off the television and led the jock downstairs. Just because he wanted nothing more than to be left alone so that he could rot in front of the tube didn't mean he was stupid enough to let a ghost down into his parents' lab without supervision.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"How did I let you talk me into this again?"

"It took very little talking," Kwan replied. "You know you want to do it."

"Do not."

"Please. You've had this thing in your house for four years and you've never once thought about taking it out for a spin?"

"The first time I took this thing 'out for a spin', I only just managed to talked my way out of prison. A ghost prison," Danny shuddered. All in all, the Specter Speeder didn't hold very fond memories for Danny. "Besides, I have a car."

"Cars are boring," Kwan said. "The novelty totally wore off after I tried to park Dash's car outside your house that day. I only just managed to blast that fire hydrant so I wouldn't crash into it."

"So that's what happened," Danny replied. He couldn't believe he hadn't realized Kwan was a ghost when he had come across that scene that day. Then again, his attention had been diverted onto more immediate problems. He still wasn't sure how Kwan had managed to talk him into joyriding in the Specter Speeder though. What was worse was that it wasn't even confined to the Ghost Zone; they were shooting through the city in midair, Danny occasionally drifting down so that it hung only a few inches above the road, imitating a hovercar in movies set in the future.

He almost crashed to the ground when he caught sight of something flit by the corner of his eye.

"Watch it!" Kwan snapped, arm darting out to the slam against the side of the Speeder to keep himself from falling forward.

"Sorry," Danny quickly turned his eyes back to the sky. What was it that had caught his attention so?

Suddenly he saw it again, a quick dart. Straining his eyes, he tried to find it again in the horizon.

When suddenly it was on them. Both Danny and Kwan gave a little jump when the pile of bones resembling a bird shot straight at them. Just before it hit the windshield, however, it shot upwards.

There was only one ghost Danny knew that had birds flayed to the bones, literally, following him. Narrowing his eyes, he raised the Speeder as high in the sky as he dared to, searching for Youngblood.

"What are you doing?" Kwan asked dryly as they zoomed over the city.

"Looking for something," Danny muttered, keeping his eyes ahead. Figuring that there was no reason to distract the other boy, he willed himself to transform into Danny Phantom immediately.

"Battle mode?" Kwan raised an eyebrow. Danny didn't reply.

The bird was gone – as far as Danny could see, there was no sight of it anywhere. Loosening his grip on the controls, he attempted to bring them down closer to the city.

It was just then that the Speeder gave a frightful shake. Kwan's hands shot out again to brace against the Speeder, and Danny clenched the controls tightly again, stumbling forward in his seat. Swearing under his breath, he turned to see what had happened.

The back of the vehicle was charred and rusty. Danny couldn't believe his eyes. It looked about to fall apart.

"How—" he'd been about to ask when a floating black mass drifted in through the roof of the Speeder.

"What the hell is that?" Kwan yelped. Johnny 13's shadow bared its fangs.

"Take the controls. Do it!" Danny ordered over Kwan's protests. Jumping into a fighting stance, he followed Shadow's exit through the bottom of the vehicle. The effect of the malignant spirit phasing through the Speeder resulted in it giving another alarming jerk. Kwan desperately attempted to gain control of it, pushing and pulling every button and lever he could reach when the Specter Speeder started to plummet.

His back turned to the scene, Danny was too immersed in his fight against Shadow to notice. Experience had taught him that simply blasting rays didn't go very far with this one. Danny would have to rely on his wit.

As he fought, ducked, dodged, and phased Shadow's aggressive swipes, Danny's mind raced to find a way to beat it. He hadn't seen Johnny 13 in a while, and couldn't imagine what he had done to deserve Shadow's attention, but if he couldn't find a way to beat him quickly, he was sure he would not be above searching the ghost out and asking him to call off his monstrous shadow.

The Speeder was quickly approaching the road, and no matter what he did, Kwan didn't seem to be able to stop it. None of the controls he had tried had responded in a positive manner, and the yoke seemed to be locked in place.

Traffic on the street below had come to an absolute standstill, as far as cars were concerned. The citizens below had noticed the oncoming flying object, seemed to realize that it was going to crash into the ground, and had abandoned their cars with terrified screams. Most of them were running away from the scene as fast as they possibly could while few others were scrambling in the middle of the road, lost in the confusion and seemingly unable to make up their minds as to where to go.

Giving up his fruitless attempts, Kwan turned himself intangible, freezing in position so that he hovered in the air, solid metal sliding right through his body as the Specter Speeder zoomed on, effectively freeing himself from its confines.

The horrible crash it created tore Danny and Shadow's attentions away. Growling, Shadow sped off in the opposite direction.

Fear gripped Danny's heart. He did not bother chasing the apparition, heading to the location of the accident as fast as he could possibly go. How could he have left Kwan at the controls? One half of his brain praying that no one had been hurt, the other half chastising himself for his recklessness, Danny flew through the air, eyes wide and somehow feeling mostly numb.

Heavy smoke was pouring from the Specter Speeder. Danny almost had to turn his head away when he took in the scene that greeted him. The Specter Speeder was totaled in a way he had never imagined a vehicle could be. The front half of the cruiser had broken asphalt and was lying lodged in the road. The side of the speeder had leaned into one side of a house, completely demolishing a wall. A fire had started on an edge of the back of the Speeder, heavy smoke pouring out and filling the air with an acrid smell. Cars were smashed and overturned, a small heap pointing to the smoking vehicle. A streetlamp had been knocked down, not by the Specter Speeder itself but by a car that had been driven straight into it in haste.

Nobody had been hurt. Danny's mouth tasted sour at the thought of innocent people dead in the middle of the street because of his mistake, but thankfully that was not the case. Some people were bleeding – he could see them now, stepping woozily back into the vicinity, clutching broken or strained appendages, blood running down their faces from crashing their cars. For the moment, the air was silent.

It had happened so fast. Danny wasn't sure he had even processed everything just yet. He simply hovered there, dazed, staring at the area with disbelieving eyes.

A sudden urge to leave broke through, and before he knew it, he turned around and began to fly away. This wasn't the place for him right now. They could clean up the mess on their own. Whatever explanation he would have to give his parents about why the Specter Speeder was involved in such a disastrous incident could be figured out later. Right now, he needed to be somewhere far away from here.

Danny stopped.

Kwan. He had forgotten all about him, hadn't checked the Speeder to see if he was still in it. He couldn't be – he had ghost powers; Tyrant would have gotten out.

He hesitated, almost turning back to check the vehicle. If he thought trying to explain why the Specter Speeder had crashed in the middle of a crowded street to his parents was going to be bad, he could only imagine what it would be like to explain why a boy from his school had been found in it.

Danny didn't get the chance to choose, however, because in that moment, a burning white-hot sensation hit him, and, letting out a cry, he fell to his knees, clutching his side with an agonized grimace. He found Skulker balancing himself on the slanted roof of a house, arm extended with a gun rising from it, a wicked expression on his face. He was standing too far away for Danny to approach, and he realized with a jolt of fear that even if he wanted to, he _couldn't_. His body ached, and the pain wasn't going to lift up anytime soon.

Skulker made no move to catch him, which puzzled Danny and thus scared him even more. The parrot, Shadow, Skulker – it had been an organized hit.

Hardly able to do anything more than breathe, Danny waited apprehensively for what was coming next. If Skulker wasn't going to do anything, that meant there was something even worse planned. All he could do was to try and prepare himself for it.

And then Skulker raised his arm. The gun that he had been shot with was now pointing straight up at the sky. A slender blue beam shot out of it, not in a short burst, but continuously. And as Danny realized with a sinking heart that it was a signal, something began to happen. He watched with terrified eyes as the clouds parted, revealing as they dispersed an enormous ship coated in green that somehow seemed to glow ethereally. Youngblood's ship.

The gun from Skulker's armor slid back inside, the beam it had been emitting immediately cutting off. The ship floating overhead grew larger and larger as it began to descend, coming to rest just before his feet. Expecting to see Youngblood and his crew smirking down at him mischievously, Danny instantly lost his breath when he met a cold smile and soulless eyes instead.

"Walker," he whispered.

All thoughts left him when the figure next to the ghost warden stepped into view. Bullet was gazing evilly down at him with an air that suggested that he was a tiny insect that he had to get rid of before continuing his day. Behind them stood various other ghosts that Danny had met over the course of his ghost-hunting activities. Technus hovered impassively with his hands behind him. Ember glared disdainfully, standing next to Bertrand, who's face was as unemotional as Technus yet alive with a malicious glee. Many others loomed alongside them, half covered in shadow.

"How long I have been planning this moment," Walker said quietly. "Every step of the way, leading you on just to make sure we all ended up here."

Danny tried to make sense of what was being said to him, but it was as though his brain had shut down in a bid to protect itself. He lay there on the street, resting almost solely on his right hip, his left arm curving to rest delicately on his side, where part of his costume had been singed off by the blast from the beam Skulker had hit him with. The skin revealed was burned pretty badly.

"You dug this grave for yourself," Walker told him. "It had nothing to do with you, but you forced our hand. Had you given us what we wanted when we came for it, you could have saved yourself this pain.

"I couldn't ignore the protests of the ghosts. So I came up with a plan to bring you down, do you like it Ghost-kid?"

Danny panted, "I – you—"

"I don't have time to break you in half. So I'm offering you one last out – give me the Plasmius soul, and you get to live."

There was nothing he could do about it. Skulker hadn't moved from his spot, and Danny could see the ghosts twitching behind Walker and Bullet, each one aching to take their anger out on him. If he tried anything, there was no doubt that he would be walking away from this in one piece. "I don't have it," he gasped out.

"You will tell us where it is," Bullet commanded. He unsheathed a sword, pointing it right at the half-ghost's throat. Behind them, the rest of the ghosts began equipping themselves with weapons too, some simply flaring up their ghost energy in anticipation of a fight. Danny felt like crying. All the work, all the uncertainty … Sam had told him not to put so much trust in Walker. They had all at one point or another been certain that there was more to this story than what they were being told, but he had simply walked blindly on, supplying Walker with information only for it to be used against him.

He wanted to say no, tell them that there was no way they would be able to get the soul from him; tears pricked his eyes and there were sobs building up inside him trying to come out. There was a lump forming in his throat. He needed air.

All of this fell away when he saw a streak paint itself upon the scenery. The ghosts were oblivious to it, still focusing on him, but Danny had seen it, and his eyes lit up with hope and his muscles suddenly feeling like they had been released from paralysis. Help was coming.

Kwan was speeding towards them with a determined look on his face. The streak he had created was a combination of dust and pieces of rubble and soot trailing behind him as he flew in the air.

By now, the ghosts had noticed the change in demeanor in him, and raised their eyes to see seek out what it was that had him so enthralled. Following his eyes, they turned over their shoulder to find the athlete aiming straight for them. As he approached even closer, Kwan's entire body was illuminated in a green glow that radiated power. As though he were made of stone, he broke through the side of the ship, causing many on board to cry out as the ship tilted from the force of the attack, and before Danny even truly realized it, Kwan had broken out through the other side, having shot through the entire width of the ship, to land before him.

No words were spoken; he gripped Danny's hand tightly in his and glided off with him so fast that they had turned a corner before the ghosts had even recovered.

"I need to let you go," Kwan yelled to him as buildings passed by. "We need to take them together. Can you fight?"

Still trying to find his breath, Danny nodded. Escape didn't seem possible, but if he allowed himself to become dead weight now, they would definitely not make it out alive.

"After them!" Walker roared. "Do not let them get away! Skulker," he addressed the ghost who was still standing on the rooftop, "track them down. We need the kid alive for now, but make sure the other one is taken care of."

Skulker was gone in an instant. Unsteadily the ship began to rise, sinking quickly back down several inches for every few inches that it rose. "Can this work?" Walker growled, seizing Youngblood by his coat. "How will your men fix it?"

"Hey, I lent you my ship and you were the one who wrecked it!" Youngblood cried petulantly. "_You_ fix it."

"Listen to me, boy," Walker slammed the tiny body in his hands against a wooden beam, "if you don't have this hole fixed in two seconds, I am going to hunt down that ghost-boy and make his stay at my prison look like a trip to the spa compared to what I'll put you through."

Youngblood trembled. The ship was quickly emptying as the search for the two ghosts was on. Several ghosts were jumping off fallen vessel and were taking to the skies trying to stake them out.

With the pirate crew working mindlessly to get the ship in the air again, Walker tossed Youngblood off with an furious litany of curses. The young ghost's body bounced on the gravel with a shocked squeak from him, narrowly missing Johnny 13's bike as he and his girlfriend drove off in search for the Phantom and his mysterious new ally.

Heavily damaged though it was, the enormous ship made greater strides through the air than the ghosts shooting all over town searching for them, and soon the headstart Danny and Kwan had gotten came to nothing as they found the shadow of the ship engulf them as it kept up with them overhead.

"There is nowhere to run, ghost-boy," Walker said determinedly, his eyes on the two boys. Loudly, he called to them, "You two aren't going anywhere – stop, boy, for your own good. Technus here," for Technus was still with him on the ship, "has built us a weapon. It will destroy you, ghost-kid, unless you give up now and take the easy way out."

'He's bluffing,' Danny thought urgently. Walker needed him, he still hadn't told them where e had kept the Plasmius soul, so if he tried to kill Danny now, Walker would find himself at a complete loss.

Still, it was never a good idea to not take a power-hungry dictator with a powerful weapon lightly. Ignoring his body's protests, he forced himself to turn 180 degrees and fire ghost rays at the ship. Though all shots were direct hits, they magnitude of them were nothing compared to the number Kwan had done on the ship earlier, and therefore did little to slow their pursuers down.

Slowly the ghosts all around the city began to close in on them, drawn in by the sight of the ship, lilting from side to side, following a path so certain that it was obvious it was on the target's tail. As they drew in, several began shooting at them, causing Danny and Kwan to swerve around their paths, mindfully trying to avoid the blasts.

'We can't keep doing this,' Danny's mind screamed to him. He had already been hurt, and now exhaustion was settling deep onto his muscles. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so worn out.

"Descend," Walker called to the ghostly crew. If they wanted to play tough, they were going to play tough. As the ship began to level down, the ghosts that had left it in pursuit of the targets gradually drifted back on board, now confident that there was no way for them to lose sight of them again. Skulker was the last to board the ship.

Danny nudged Kwan in the arm, pointing up at the descending ship. "They'll destroy all the buildings they get near," he informed. "We have to stop them."

"How? I don't know what to do!"

Anxiety was clawing at Danny's insides. For once, he was truly at a loss. There seemed to be no way to get the ghosts away from them, and time was quickly running out for them.

"We have to draw them up," he decided. "Come on, follow me."

And they raised themselves upwards, nimbly working through the small amount of space the ship's expanse left them when they were level with it. The ghosts howled ferociously, but Danny simply kept rising, taking any opportunity to bring them down, flinging balls of energy at them along with the occasional ghost ray.

The ship rose with them. Danny closed his eyes briefly in silent thanks for the plan working. They had managed to keep the ship from crushing any buildings so far, but he still had no idea how to end the game.

Walker, however, had some ideas. As the pirate crew worked to keep the two boys within sight, he ordered Skulker and Technus to raise the machine.

Danny watched as a commotion began taking place on the ship's deck. He caught a few words Walker had bellowed out, most of them blown away by the wind, but he had heard the word 'machine'. His mind flashing back, he recalled the time he had discovered Technus prowling around in his parents laboratory. The ghost must have been stealing items all along in order to create that weapon Walker had been so proud of.

'Alright, Danny,' he tried to mentally prepare himself. This was it. They were bringing out the big gun. Whatever it was meant to do to him, he had to make sure it didn't touch him. Kwan was flying on the other side of the ship, but all eyes of the crew were fixated on him.

"Last chance, ghost kid," Walker crowed. "Give up now."

Danny gave him the finger, then swerved upwards against the building in anticipation of an unfriendly response.

He knew he had gotten it wrong though, when Walker gave him that same cold smile again.

Almost in slow motion, he watched as the warden slammed his hand against the back of the device which had previously been pointing at him. His mouth dropped in an open in an 'o' of surprise when it pointed now at Kwan, who didn't seem to be paying attention. Danny tried to warn him as soon as he realized what was going to happen, but felt as though he could do nothing.

The weapon looked like a contraption in science fiction movies meant to grace the protagonist with untold powers through some hideous gamma ray exposure. Danny let out a hoarse scream just in time to see it power up with a light that went from light blue to white-hot, then sent out a blast right into Kwan's body. Danny watched helplessly while Kwan's face contorted into an expression of shock and pain, watched as the body slipped into a graceless position as swung to a stop in mid-air and almost immediately began to topple out of the sky.

The ghosts were still watching him, and Walker had already focused the machinery back on him. Danny came to a stop too, changing course to go after his friend, begging frantically that he would be able to catch the body in time, telling himself that he could not allow his classmate's body to slam into the ground like that and take his life.

A little later and it would have been too late. In a wild bid that came too close for comfort, he managed to catch Kwan's body safely in his arms before the met the ground. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure the ghosts were not coming back just yet, Danny set the other body down on the ground carefully, transforming into Danny Fenton as he did so.

The blast had created a wound, not as large as Danny would have expected considering the proximity of the weapon and Kwan's body, but it was bleeding heavily anyway. A crowd was beginning to form around them now, more people on the street this time than there had been when the Specter Speeder had crashed, the people who had been around then not wasting any time to call their friends to come over and watch the spectacle.

Danny had been about to scream for a doctor, for someone to help, just do _anything_, when he was grabbed by the collar hard. Kwan lay on the ground, a thick hand holding on to him by the front of his shirt. His eyes were wild and searching, and his lip was trembling uncontrollably. For the first time, Kwan actually looked very afraid. "Danny—"

"Don't worry," Danny tried to soothe, "I'm going to find a doctor. I'm going to get help. Don't worry, okay? It's – it's going to be fine—"

"No!" Kwan whispered harshly. The color was draining from his face and his eyes were growing dimmer. Fear and apprehension began to well inside Danny as he looked on. Tears slipped out of the boy's eyes, which already seemed more hollow than they had been an hour ago. "It wasn't supposed to go this way."

"I can get somebody to look at you," Danny insisted. "Kwan, if you just let go of my shirt—"

"No, no, Danny, it's not going to be," Kwan pressed his head back against the cement of the sidewalk he'd been placed on as if it were literally killing him to get the words out. "I don't – I don't know what…"

"Kwan—"

Kwan suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. He was breathing sharply, yet somehow his breaths were shallower than normal as they came out. "Tell them to take you to the Rock."

"What?"

"The Rock," Kwan hissed. "Tell them to take you there. You'll understand – everything … I—" he let out a shuddering gasp, his eyes widening in fear. Danny turned around and saw the ship struggling to turn, trying to get back t them and finish them off. "Kwan..."

"You have to go – go there," Kwan insisted. "I didn't want to do it this way." His voice was gradually growing softer. Danny couldn't bring himself to say anything. Kwan's eyelids closed, his breathing still irregular and desperate, as though he couldn't bear to keep them up any longer. His lips still moved, but there was no hope of hearing anything they formed.

And with a growing crowd of spectators around him, a damaged ship making its way towards them, and limp arms loosening their grip around him, Danny hung his head down, waiting to cry.

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Author's Note: Very sorry for the extremely late chapter, I've been really busy the past few weeks, and was also putting this chapter off because I wasn't quite sure how to write it. I'm not very satisfied with it right now either, it seemed to go better in my head. Regardless, please tell me what you think. Your comments and constructive criticism is welcome.


	23. Fear Nostradamus

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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The scene at Casper High the next day was chaos. At that very moment, the entire teaching staff and support staff were busy trying to get themselves and any student they came along the way in order. Hall monitors were told to enforce every rule they knew with strict vigilance, and that they were to let no rule-breakers slip through their hands. Teachers who were usually too soft-spoken or apathetic for their students to hear properly were practically shouting in attempt to speak more clearly. The janitor was working feverishly to clean the halls while the students were in class. Everybody wanted Casper High to look good.

In his office, Mr. Lancer was involved in something far more serious. Leaning close together, he and Principal Ishiyama whispered hurriedly and urgently, trying to think of what to say to the company they were receiving. Both of them had been interrupted numerous times the past evening by media outlets around Amity Park and beyond, all requesting statements from them regarding an accident a student of the school had been involved in. They had discussed it last night and agreed to call a press conference in the school that afternoon, and were now anxiously awaiting the circus about to burst in through the doors.

As the vice principal, Mr. Lancer had been appointed the job of giving a statement to the press by Principal Ishiyama, who pointed out that as a teacher of several different subjects in the school, even while maintaining his status as the vice-principal, it would be better if the words came from him.

At 2:00 PM, the audience of reporters and cameramen began filling in the principal's office, Lancer's own office being far too small to fit in as many people.

"Thank you all for coming," Lancer addressed somberly. "As you all know, a student of Casper High School was involved in a serious incident yesterday. We understand that the police are still trying to verify the story, and that eye-witness reports have been deemed too unreliable for the time being. In this time, we at Casper High would like to extend our sympathies to the family, and our well-wishes that he will recover quickly."

Pencils scribbled furiously on pads as the reporters rushed to get his every word down. "What do you have to say about reports that Danny Phantom being involved in this event?"

Lancer shared a glance with Principal Ishiyama, who stood stiffly by his side. "We prefer to withhold comments until the police have officially determined what went on—"

"Everyone says Danny Phantom was involved," another reporter, a man this time, remarked.

"Yes, but as we understand it, there seems to be some confusion as to what role he played yesterday—"

"Danny Phantom has been involved in several incidents in the lives of students, hasn't he?" someone else interrupted. "I believe this school holds the record for the most Phantom sightings anywhere in Amity Park?"

"Yes, the school does seem to catch his attention more than most places—" Lancer tried to say gently, but was again cut off before he could get his words completely out.

"Do you have any idea why Danny Phantom would attack a boy from this school?"

"What do you have to say about safety precautions set around the school?"

"Can you comment on the constant budget cuts and frequent cancellation of extracurricular activities?"

"Those budget cuts are done for the safety of the students," Lancer flushed at the last question. He knew someone was going to bring it up; Casper High's budget cuts was a favorite topic of the local media, even though the school had explained their purpose and defended their reasons for canceling so many after-school activities over the years. "Money has to be allocated to protecting the school from ghost attacks, which is a problem hardly any other schools seem to have. In order to keep our students safe, there must be certain sacrifices, and certain after-school programs have to go."

All at once everyone started speaking. Microphones were shoved in Mr. Lancer's face as reporters subjected him to a rapid-fire round.

"What determines what stays and what goes?" one asked. "Why does the music program get cut while the football team plays on?"

"Do you consider it inhumane to subject your football players to practice year round, even when the season is over?"

"Football is an excellent way for them to get exercise," Principal Ishiyama stepped in. "As the basketball team and track team were cut some time ago, we encourage students to practice football year-round so that they may get some fresh air and—"

"Have your activities been approved by the school board?" another reporter shouted. The room burst into chatter again. The focus of the conference was no longer on Kwan, everyone present instead choosing to point out the various ways Casper High did not live up to standard,

"_Invitation To A Beheading!_" Lancer slammed his palms down on the wooden desk. As everyone else watched in surprise, he reached out and pulled the fire alarm. Instantly the bell began to ring, signaling everyone to evacuate the school. Grabbing the school's microphone, Lancer announced over the announcement speakers, "Everyone out of the school. Now!"

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"_Vice-principal Lancer is due to an evaluation by the school board concerning his behavior exhibited this afternoon in Amity Park's local public school, Casper High, and may be facing charges that would lead to suspension or possibly permanent dismissal."_

Danny clicked off the television in disgust, turning to look at Sam and Tucker who were sitting next to him on the couch.

"Never thought I'd live to see Lancer being the one facing suspension," Sam shook her head.

"It was totally unfair too," Danny groused. "He didn't do anything wrong. Those reporters totally goaded him into it."

"You were there?"

"Of course I was. They were going to talk about Kwan. I had to see what they were going to say and which direction those reporters were going to take with the story."

"My guess: another smear campaign," Tucker said. "And it looks like Lancer's going to be joining you for the ride this time."

"You would think that the local media would have gone easy on him," Sam said sympathetically. "This is just going to put the whole town in a bad light."

"So what did they say?" Sam asked Danny. The anger she had felt previously had completely dissipated when he had called her the previous night, sobbing and nearly hysterical asking her to come to Amity General. She and Tucker hadn't officially made up, but that was only because there was no real need to. They had both forgotten about their argument when they met at the hospital.

"Nothing worth hearing. The school sends its regards, the media wanted to jump on Danny Phantom's back. I guess I can it's that magical time of year when my ratings plummet."

"I don't understand how they could try to pin this on you," Tucker said. "I mean, you _caught_ Kwan. The other guys were the ones who shot him down. It seems pretty clear who's the bad guy here."

"Yeah, except that since they were all aboard Youngblood's ship, no one could see them," Danny said miserably. "As far as everyone knows, Danny Phantom took a shot at an innocent bystander and Danny Fenton caught him as he fell." He gave Tucker a bitter smile. "And you remember what you told me about the public being fickle."

"What happened anyway?" Sam questioned. She hadn't dared ask him for too many details last night in the hospital, and still wasn't too clear on what had happened. All she had to go on were the incoherent babblings he had given her when she asked and the news reports that had broken out in the evening news and morning papers.

Danny sighed heavily again, burying his face in his hands as though he just wanted to forget everything. Sam and Tucker were waiting however, and he had no doubt that if he didn't proceed to fill them in they would poke and prod until he finally did. So he recounted the story for them in full, waiting to see how they would react.

"No one can pin this on you," Tucker said determinedly. "Why would an 'innocent bystander' just fall out of the sky for Danny Fenton to catch? It makes no sense to anyone who bothers to think about it. If Kwan was shot out of the air, clearly he was being possessed by a ghost."

"People aren't going to care about that," Sam refuted. "The media is going to just say that Danny flew him up to … I don't know, throw him back down and kill him or something." She picked up the remote control and clicked the television back on to a different channel. "It's already being reported on CNN."

"And if it's being reported on CNN—"

"Then it's a matter of national importance—"

"Which means—"

"I'm going to have the Guys in White all over me again," Danny finished mournfully.

Sam turned the television off, sharing a sympathetic look with Tucker. "Have you been to see Kwan anymore?" she asked. Someone in the crowd that had gathered around the two boys that day had had the sense to call an ambulance, for which Danny had been grateful as he could not have simply transformed back into his alter-ego and flown to the hospital. Youngblood's ship had been making its way back towards them when it suddenly ceased to turn back around again and leave. Danny suspected that either the ghosts had not wanted to start a confrontation with so many humans around or that they figured they had already done enough damage for one day.

He had been pushed to ride in the back of the ambulance, too dazed to make it on his own steam. No one had talked inside, the attendant in the back with him too focused on Kwan's vitals. In the hospital they had rushed him in, something Danny was sure they would not have done were he not in a bad condition, and he, Danny, had been left to his own devices in the reception hall.

Too scared to wait on his own, it had occurred to him that he ought to call Kwan's parents and inform them of what had happened to their son before realizing he had never met his parents before and had no idea how to contact them. So he had done the next best thing.

Whatever tension had been between Dash and Danny the past few days seemed to have dissipated yet grown stronger at the same time. When he had arrived, pale with wide eyes, after Danny's call, the atmosphere between them told Danny that now was not the time for either of them to talk about their problems, but it was omnipresent in his mind the entire time.

Kwan's parents – Christ, he didn't even know the guy's family name – arrived soon after; Dash must have called them as soon as Danny had hung up. They did not spare him much attention, only nodded politely when the doctor pointed him out, but then again they had far more important matters to attend to. Dash had pulled him aside and demanded to know what happened, but there was hardly anything Danny could tell him without giving too much away. He hadn't been able to come up with a proper alibi in him, his mind feeling too worn out to think so far ahead.

Kwan was in a coma. Danny almost screamed with relief, but had managed to catch himself in time. It was bad, but comas could be overcome; true that many people never managed to come out of it – he couldn't fault Kwan's parents for grieving at that moment – but he was just so relieved that he wasn't _dead_ that he couldn't help but see this as a good thing.

"What about Tyrant?" Tucker sat down next to him.

"I don't know," Danny mumbled through the hands still cupped over his face. The doctors hadn't mentioned finding anything suspicious inside Kwan. Danny didn't know if they would have been able to detect ectoplasmic energy inside one's body or anything – he had always been sure to steer clear of such situations before – and since Kwan wasn't conscious to exhibit any behavioral symptoms, there was no way of knowing what had become of the ghost that inhabited him. It had occurred to Danny while he waited in the hospital that Tyrant was dead. Could the weapon that he'd been hit with have disintegrated the ghost within the body? Danny wasn't sure.

All in all, it looked like everything was going to be up in the air for a while.

The phone rang. Sam beat him to it. "Hello? Oh, hi, Mister Fenton. Yeah, he's right here – hold on." She passed the phone over to Danny.

"Dad?" he greeted when he pressed the phone to his ear.

"Danny, how's everything?"

"Fine," Danny replied, nonplussed. "Why? What's up?"

"There's going to be a meeting in city hall tonight," his father informed. "Just making sure that you're alright. Your mother and I will probably be late. They want to discuss what's to be done about that ghost-kid. Have the police been by to see you yet?"

"No," Danny said solemnly. The police had arrived in the hospital to question him regarding his involvement in the issue, but had seen that he was in no condition to answer such lengthy questions at the moment, and had, after ensuring with his doctors that the victim was stable, informed Danny that they would be informing his parents that they would need to bring him in for questioning another day.

"Don't say anything without a lawyer present," Jack warned. "Vlad might be coming down; he called when he heard the news, he might be bringing his own lawyers into this. Such a good friend."

"Such a good friend," Danny replied monotonously. "Listen, dad, I've got to go now."

"Yeah, alright son," his father said. "See you tonight."

"Vlad's coming," Danny said as soon as he put the phone back on its cradle. "My dad said he might be bringing his lawyers with him."

"Excellent," Sam said eagerly. "Now you can give him back the Plasmius soul and tell him to find someone else to guard it."

"I thought you wanted me to keep the Plasmius soul?" Danny raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't think you'd still want to, not with everything that's happened," Sam said with some surprise. "You were ready to give it back to him a few days ago."

"Well, I'm not anymore," Danny said. "Walker's been lying to me this whole time. There's obviously more to this story than we thought, and I want to know what they want with it. Tyrant told me to ask them to bring me to the Rock—"

"The Rock?" Tucker asked. "When did he say that?"

"Right after they hit him," Danny said. He hadn't told them this part yet. "He was really scared – I could see it in his eyes. He told me that I had to find them and make them bring me to the Rock. I don't know what he was talking about, but I bet Walker does."

"You're going to see him now?" Sam gasped. "After he nearly killed you yesterday? Danny, that's suicide!"

"No, it's not," Danny said firmly. "I'll be in the Ghost Zone, and if I get in any trouble, I'll just turn human. I have to get to the bottom of this. Then we can all move on. Besides, they wouldn't want to kill me until I reveal where I hid the Plasmius soul, and I'm leaving it here."

There was no way to stop him when he got like this, so Sam and Tucker eventually agreed to man the controls. "How long do you need?" Tucker asked as the doors slid open.

"I don't know," Danny replied. "I have no idea what I'm getting myself into."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," Sam said worriedly. "Who knows what could happen to you in there?"

"I'll be fine, guys," Danny said. "Just make sure to open the door every few minutes and check if I'm there."

The vortex was swirling in front of him now, waiting to devour him. Let out a soft 'whoosh' of breath, Danny floated into its depths and began the familiar path to Walker's prison.

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The prison seemed totally deserted. Danny had peeked into Walker's office to find that the ghost wasn't in there, and had started roaming around, trying to pick up any sign of a ghost lurking around. But so far, everywhere he looked appeared to be dark and empty. Even the cells had been abandoned.

Finally, as he turned another corner, he heard a vague sound that resembled an audience cheering. Picking up speed, he held his breath and pushed his head through the metal barriers to see what was happening on the other side.

The audience wasn't cheering. They were bickering. All around the large expanse of the prison's field, various ghosts were gathered, some whom Danny had encountered before, many of whom he had not; some of whom were still clothed in prison uniform, some who were not, some who weren't clothed in any way at all. All of them had heavy frowns and fiery eyes on their faces.

"Silence. Silence!" Danny craned his neck upwards to find Walker descending to the ground of the ledge whose door he was hidden behind. He made to pull away, but paused when Walker stopped right in front of him – the ghost would have to turn a full 180 degrees in order to see him, so Danny couldn't have chosen a better hiding spot: Walker's frame covered him from the crowd nicely, and the warden and all his goons were fixed forward and couldn't see him.

The crowd wasn't listening. Danny watched as Walker raised one hand that was starting to glow with enormous energy. The next thing Danny heard, there was a loud sound, followed by some squeals, an awful crushing sound, and finally silence.

"I know the results of the previous evening were undesirable," Walker continued. "Due to unforeseen circumstances, the plan had to be deviated from, and we did not manage to recover the Plasmius soul."

"Unforeseen circumstances!" someone in the crowd scoffed angrily. "We could have had him, Walker! We were almost there until you made us all nearly break our arms _again_ turning that blasted ship back around. Why did we not kill the child when we had the chance?"

"Patience," Walker said. He rested his arms behind his back. "The boy had a defender that we did not anticipate. Skulker – why is it that in your reports, there was absolutely no mention of any peripheral threats aside from his two mortal companions?"

"I didn't meet one," Skulker growled. "All this time that I had been watching the boy, not once did that gnat of his prove to be anything worth challenging."

"What does that have to do with anything?" rang out a familiar voice. Ember.

"The idea is simple," Walker said loudly. "To get to the boy, we apprehend and contain any reserve co-operatives he has. We already stationed a group to stalk and kill his two friends, but there was no contingent plan on taking out another ally. I will not have such deviations in my plan."

"Oh, fuck you!" someone called out. "You're such a control freak you would risk all our afterlives just so you can stick to that script inside your demented head?" He broke off with a scream, and Danny guessed that one of the guards roaming the crowds had just stunned him.

"Let's get one thing straight here, people – you work for _me_." Walker began pacing now. "If I so wanted, I could have all of you entombed in these walls until Chaos comes, but as a personal rule, when such threats arise I like to give my prisoners a fighting chance to save themselves, primarily so that I may have another chance and tossing them back into this jail to rot. But the fact that I have freed you does not mean that I do not still rule you. You will do as I say, and you will follow my reign lest I have you all hung on hooks otherwise.

"Skulker shall scout out the boy for any weaknesses once more. This time, he will keep a closer guard than ever before so that we may learn of any other allies that we shall have to keep an eye on. Once this phase is done—"

"We don't have time for this!" one ghost grunted in frustration. "Let's just nab the little brat right now and make him tell us where it is!"

Walker's reply was cut off by an unexpected blast to the rear. Danny stepped through to reveal himself, brow in a concentrated frown. "You don't have to," he announced.

His entrance was met with a chorus of jeers and roars from the innumerable amount of ghosts who wanted to tear him limb from limb. Danny, however, couldn't care less, perched safely above them with only Walker and his guards and Skulker standing off to the side serving as any sort of immediate threat.

Walker didn't bother to fire back, knowing there was hardly any point when Danny was still human. "What are you doing here, Ghost-kid?"

"You think you can come after me," Danny said coldly, "shoot down a civilian, and I won't come after you?"

"That was no civilian," Walker snapped. "He was flying right by your side – you've been keeping a ghost hidden from me, after I ordered you to bring them here."

"So that you could amass your army, no doubt," Danny retorted. "I don't take order from anyone, especially not double-crossing dictator-wannabes like you." He raised a hand threateningly. "You are all going to tell me the truth this time, or I'll blast every single one of you until you become shapeless blobs. I see Walker was thoughtful enough to round you all up for me, like pigs in a pen."

The dull roar picked up again as the crowd began to mutter angrily amongst themselves. "Tell him!" one ghost from the crowd yelled out.

"Yes, Walker," Danny heard a nasally voice that could only belong to Poindexter. "If you want him to cooperate, you cannot possibly leave him in the dark like this."

"It is not his place to know!" Ember said angrily.

"Why don't you put it to a vote?" someone else suggested over the others. Danny turned to Walker to see what he thought of this.

"Democracy doesn't rule here, I do," he boomed. "There will be no votes."

"Alright," Danny conceded, "then how about a fight to the death? And when I'm done with you, _then_ they can tell me what I want to know."

Grumbling, Walker gave in. "We shall elect five ghosts each," he decreed. "And they shall decide. I will pick first."

"Ember!" he roared. Danny watched as two guards gripped her by the elbows and unceremoniously raised her and tossed her to land at the ledge Danny and Walker were situated. "Bullet! Skulker! Bertrand! Technus!"

'Oh, great,' Danny thought hopelessly. All of these ghosts had at one point or another tried to get the Plasmius soul away from him. Technus hadn't tried to do so directly, but Danny had no doubt that he was the one who had constructed that nightmarish weapon from the previous day. Walker strode back under the shadow of the arches. "Make your choice, ghost-kid."

"Poindexter!" Danny said immediately, knowing he had at least one person in the crowd in favor of sparing him another battle. His eyes scanned for another friendly face in the crowd as Poindexter landed by his side with an grunt. "Dorathea!"

He was running low on choices. He hadn't made very many friends in all his years of kicking ghosts' asses back into their world. Danny could feel Walker's smirk burning into the back of his head, and he clenched his fist. "Klemper!"

"Will you be my friend?" the ghost sang dizzily as two guards raised him up and threw him before Danny's feet.

"Yes, yes, but only if you vote to show me the Rock," Danny helped him to his feet and directed him to stand beside Poindexter and Dora.

"Is this it?" Walker didn't bother hiding his laugh. "A fine threesome they make."

"Shut up," Danny replied. Out of desperation, he called out for Johnny and Kitty to join the others that he had called out, remembering too late that they had both been present the previous day to hunt him down. He would have to hope that there wasn't too much bad blood between them to stop them from being fair – or rather, that Kitty would force Johnny to vote for him.

"Now," Walker turned to the group of ten he and Danny had assembled, "what say you?"

"Rip his head off!" Ember pumped her fists.

"Mount him on a pole," Bullet agreed with a bloodthirsty look in his eye.

"Like you'd even have the chance," Poindexter said. "You know you can't touch him here. He's clearly out of all our leagues."

"Yes," Dorothea said. "You're so desperate for a weapon, Walker, why not this one? The boy has proven his worth many times over."

Klemper drooled. Dora nudged him with her elbow. "Er … I think we should take him to the Rock?" Klemper said uncertainly. "Will you be my friend now?"

"Yeah, well, I think we should hog-tie him down and—"

"Oh for God's sake, Johnny, don't you ever listen?" Kitty broke through angrily. "Two-tone just said we can't touch him here. Just tell him what he wants to know and deal with it."

"All in favor of bringing the halfa to the Rock—" Poindexter raised his hand. Dora, Klemper and Kitty followed suit, while the rest, grumbling, did the same half-heartedly.

"It's unanimous!" Danny whooped. They were finally getting somewhere. Walker didn't look happy, but he returned to the edge overlooking the crowd and held his hands up for silence anyway.

"A decision has been reached," he announced. "We will bring the ghost-kid to the Rock." Immediately, chatter broke up again, but Walker continued on as though they were still focused on him, "What we do to the boy afterwards is still up for suggestion."

Danny rolled his eyes. Always with the theatrics, that one.

The guards drifted over to the gates and unlocked it, pulling them open to allow all present to file through. Once outside the prison, the ghosts took to the air, circling around the towers of the prison waiting for him to join them. Danny stood by the edge of the rock tentatively. If he were to join them, he would have to go ghost, meaning he would no longer have the invulnerability his human state provided him in the Ghost Zone. Hesitating just a moment, he decided that it was worth the risk and transformed into Danny Phantom, then rose up to join them.

The ghosts shared looks with each other.

And before he knew it, Danny was letting out a yell and raising his arms to protect his face from the onset of ghosts leaping towards him. Pulling away, he blindly raised his hand to charge up an ectoplasmic ball. He took the opportunity to open his eyes and clear his vision only after he had flung out his arm to heave it at the assailants.

He realized that he was in the middle of a full-scale whoop-ass. Ghosts were leaping on top of the ones that had tried to leap on him; Poindexter, Kitty, Johnny and Shadow were floating before him, backs turned, fending off the oncoming wave as best they could.

Bullet was atop someone's shoulders, landing blows to the ghost's head. His eyes locked together with Danny's, and he let out a wicked grin, tensing his legs to spring forward and devour him—

—when he, along with everybody else, was tossed away to the side like marbles. Danny only had time to let in a breath when a gigantic claw wrapped around him and squeezed.

"_I want to go to the Roooooooock!"_ Dora the Dragon roared. Her mighty wings flapped and she shot off with Danny in her clutches.

The ghosts followed close behind. Some tried blasting the dragon's tough skin in fruitless attempts to get her to let go of him, but most of them had the sense to know that the game was lost and were content to follow.

Dora began to drift lower, lower, to the depths of Ghost Zone. Despite the seemingly never-ending swill, the Ghost Zone did have solid ground, lost so deep below that Danny had only ever touched it once. When she released him, he found various ghosts surrounding them staring in awe at something behind him. He turned around to see that the Rock they regaled so much really was just that – a jagged grey stone protruding through the smooth expanse of eerie green that made the base of the Ghost Zone.

"Okay, so what's the big deal about this …" Danny's jaw dropped open. Carved on to the other side into the stone was an inscription:

_It will come to pass that this world shall be cleansed_

_And all who drift here shall linger nevermore_

The ghosts stood behind him anxiously. Danny raised his eyes back up to meet them.

"It's amateurish at best," he blurted.

The ghosts were unimpressed. "Is that all you're going to say?" Ember demanded.

"Alright, what's the story behind this then?"

"Nobody knows for sure," Technus answered.

"Johnny was the one who discovered it," Kitty placed a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder. "He likes coming down here and riding his bike. When he found this, he told me, and we spread the word."

"It's a prophecy," Danny mused.

"More like a promise," Walker said.

"I don't get it," Danny said blankly, feeling slow.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Ember said. "No one does! No one knows how long this thing has been here before Johnny found it, no one knows who wrote it, no one knows what's going to happen, or when – all we know is someone's threatening to take us down."

"And when you can dig up a rock in this place," Bertrand said, taking in the barren green floor that stretched into the horizon, "you know they mean business."

But none of the ghosts were laughing. Danny felt goosebumps form on his skin with absolutely no prompting from chilliness. For the first time, he saw hopelessness and fear on the face of each and every ghost present, too many for him to count. He had never seen such looks before, not even when Pariah Dark had awaken from his slumber and terrorized from their homes. At least back then, they knew who the enemy was and what he was capable of.

"When word got around that Plasmius had given up his ghost-half, everyone interested knew that there was only one person he would trust it with: you," Walker told Danny. "I myself had not been aware of this situation until later, when you brought Bullet back to me. He told me everything about the Rock, and of Plasmius's ghost-half being in your care. All of those who tried to take it from you failed; I knew that if we were to procure it, we would have to work together.

"The trouble, you see, is that the spirit is only effective for one ghost. Since Masters had removed it, it had no host and would inhabit the nearest vessel available; to us, that meant an increase in power – and thus a better chance of protecting ourselves from this threat. I knew that the ghosts I worked with could only be the ones who had tried to obtain the soul from you on their own, which meant that it would be easier for them to agree to a truce. Any others wouldn't want to work together because they'd want the power for themselves."

"But you didn't come after me on your own," Danny turned to Johnny 13 and Kitty.

"We decided that since only one person can use the soul, we'd rather die together," Kitty sighed romantically. Johnny looked slightly uncomfortable as he nodded along.

"Johnny and Kitty are part of a select few gracious enough to help us take the soul from you without wanting to use it themselves," Walker smirked. "They just want someone else to handle the burden of protecting the Ghost Zone.

"And the rest of them volunteered. Did you not, gentlemen?"

There was a faint murmur of assent, from gentlemen, ladies, and those who exceeded gender altogether. Danny suspected that Walker had relied on more than sign-up sheets to build his army but held his tongue.

"What if the soul hadn't been enough?" he questioned. "What if it had been too much, and you lost control of it? You don't know what could have happened."

"We don't know what's going to happen if we don't protect ourselves either," Walker reminded. "I had set Skulker to follow you; he was to report on any information he could find on your fellow ghost-catchers, where you stored the weapon, and the like – he wasn't very effective, as you can tell."

"So there's the truth," Technus said plainly. "Something's coming, and we don't know what. We're all groping in the dark finding some way to stop it."

"So for months you spent all your energies trying to get the Plasmius soul?" Danny sputtered. "What, didn't getting your asses kicked at every turn tell you that maybe you should have gone with some different ideas?"

"Of course it did, ghost-kid," Walker said. "Why do you think I had Technus build that gun from parts he found from your laboratory?"

"We are not the only ghosts trying to do something about this," Poindexter added. "We simply make up the small percentage who decided that this was the best way to go."

Danny caught Bertrand's eye. "Spectra?"

"In hiding," he sighed. "She has the idea that if she just waits it out, whatever comes to wipe us out will miss her, and then she can come out again and feast on the waves of misery that accompany devastation."

"What other ideas did you guys come up with?" Danny inquired.

"What else can be done?" Ember retorted. "It's not like we can have Ghost Writer change what's about to happen, not after he wrote himself out of existance. And it's not as if Desiree can just wish it all away."

Danny remembered when, almost an entire year ago, Desiree had grown mad with power and had sought to destroy him. She had almost managed it, but Danny had been able to steal her lamp away and destroyed it, causing her powers to dissolve almost instantly. He hadn't seen her since, and asked Ember where she had been this entire time. She snorted disdainfully.

"She's been holed up in my place like a goddamn vegetable for months now. It's driving me crazy. She refuses to do _anything_. All she ever does is lay around my couch whining about how her powers are so diminished she might as well become a fairy."

"Alright," Bullet said insistently, "we've done our part. Now, are you going to give up the ghost or do we have to beat it out of you?"

Danny narrowed his eyes, and before anyone could react, sprung into the air and took off. There was a moment of stunned silence, then with angry roars, the ghosts began to follow him. Not breaking his pace for a moment, Danny willed himself intangible so that any ecto-blasts would shoot right through him.

The door to the Fenton Ghost Portal was open. Danny could already see Sam and Tucker peeking inside anxiously, but did not dare turn himself visible again for fear of any stray shots hitting him at the last moment. The door was closing now – intangibility wouldn't be able to help him get through it if he missed his chance.

He closed his eyes and pushed himself forward. He could feel the bright strip of light permeating through his eyelids, growing slimmer.

He made it. As the doors closed, Danny felt the last few wisps of his ghostly tail die away, and he tumbled to the ground with Tucker underneath him.

"So what happened?" Sam asked when he reformed.

"I found out everything," Danny got to his feet and stuck out his hand to help Tucker up as well. "I'll tell you everything after my meeting with Vlad."


	24. He Could Always See Me

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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Danny could hardly be called surprised when later in the day the street directly in front of his house was mobbed by a whole flank of cars surrounding a particularly expensive-looking one bearing a particularly expensive-looking man. Danny simply rolled his eyes. It was just like Vlad to make an appearance with an entire entourage.

"Why didn't you just bring the limo?" he asked dryly when Vlad reached him.

"The driver has the day off, and I'm not going to trust parking that monster to anyone else," Vlad said shortly in response. "Now, are you going to let me in?"

Danny obliged, and within a minute found his living room filled with sullen looking men in suits that looked highly uncomfortable. Vlad paid them no attention and set his eyes on Danny's. "So tell me, Daniel, exactly how did you manage to get yourself involved in such an event as this?"

Danny eyed the men – Vlad's lawyers, he guessed, a whole team of them – warily, not feeling free to discuss the entire situation at length. Vlad seemed to understand his distress, and prompted, "The boy who you rushed to the hospital after that ghastly attack?"

"Uh, yeah," Danny caught on. He still wasn't comfortable with this arrangement – how on earth were these men supposed to help him if he couldn't even give them the full picture? – but trusted that Vlad had been able to get out of sticky legal situations with his ghost half before without giving away his secret.

"Well, I heard all about the boy getting blasted to Kingdom Come on the TV, of course," Vlad said, and Danny imagined he heard a hint of vindictive pleasure behind the man's voice at the chance to rub it in, "but what I don't understand is how you got tangled up in the whole affair."

Stealing a last glance at the circle of lawyers around them, Danny tried to phrase his sentence as carefully as possible. "I was walking down the street and there was this explosion – Vlad, can I speak to you? In private?"

Vlad rolled his eyes, but allowed Danny to drag him away from his team of lawyers and upstairs into his bedroom. "Oh, Daniel, you could have put in a little more effort."

"Shut up," Danny growled. "This is all your fault."

Vlad raised his eyebrows. "_My_ fault? Exactly how is this _my_ fault? I'm here to bail you out of this problem."

"Yeah, and your ghost half was what started it in the first place," Danny told him heatedly. "I've been fighting ghosts off for months now trying to keep them away from it."

"You can hardly blame me for that," Vlad shrugged, taking a seat on the edge of Danny's bed and eyeing the sheets distastefully. "I'm sure you knew what to expect when I gave it to you."

"It's still your fault I'm in this position now," Danny said defiantly. "And I can't talk to you about it with those guys down there—"

"You're going to have to," Vlad said. "They're the ones who'll have to get you out of this. All you have to do is tell them what happened while omitting a few details that may seem too … incriminating."

There was a soft knock on the door, which subsequently opened before Danny could invite the person behind inside. Sam strolled in with Tucker following her. Danny had told them to wait in Jazz's room until he was done with Vlad. "We got bored," Sam said by way of explanation.

"Yeah, and you might want to keep your voices down," Tucker said casually. "We could hear you from outside."

"Ah, Miss Manson; Mister Foley," Vlad got to his feet and stuck his hand out for them to shake. Sam stared at him coldly, their last encounter still fresh in her memory. Vlad retracted his hand and turned back to Danny. "Shall we return downstairs then?"

"No," Danny said, "you still haven't given me an answer."

"An answer to what, how to give the lawyers your side of the story? Daniel, I already told you—"

"How is Danny supposed to give the lawyers his side of the story without implicating himself – or blaming Danny Phantom?" Sam demanded.

"It doesn't matter if he blames Danny Phantom," Vlad scoffed. "He's a ghost! What are they going to do, throw him in jail?"

"You've obviously never had a whole town against you," Danny muttered bitterly.

"Why do you even need lawyers?" Tucker inquired. "It's not like this is going to trial. I thought the police just wanted you to give a statement?"

"And answer questions," Vlad declared. "My lawyers can provide Daniel with a proper alibi to explain his involvement."

"How can the lawyers provide an alibi for his whereabouts when Danny is trying to provide them an alibi for his whereabouts in the first place?" Sam challenged.

"They will refine his excuses for him, silly girl," Vlad fixed her with a hard expression.

"I thought lawyers were supposed to find the truth," Tucker said mildly.

"I'm sure Vlad's got them well-trained in 'refining his excuses' for him by now," Sam sneered.

"I certainly have," Vlad sounded proud of this accomplishment, "and young Daniel here is going to reap the benefits of my doings; honestly, I don't understand why you continue your association with this bunch," he turned back to Danny, waving a hand towards Sam and Tucker dismissively. Sam flushed, but Tucker placed a hand on her shoulder in warning.

"Now, should we return?" he offered again.

"Vlad, I still don't know what to say to them," Danny whined, stealing a glance at his friends to make sure they weren't expecting him to stick up for them. He had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment. Sam rolled her eyes, but otherwise didn't show any sign of her resentment.

"I'm sure you'll be able to think of something," Vlad told him confidently, opening the door and sauntering out. Sparing one last glance, silently ordering the other two to stay in the room, Danny left as well.

The lawyers hadn't moved, nor had the bored expressions on their faces left them. Danny seated himself back down on the couch self-consciously. Vlad wrapped his arm around his shoulder, and though Danny tried to shrug it off, it remained, and strangely enough, brought him a little bit of comfort. "Why don't you start from the beginning, young man," one of the dark-suited men advised.

Danny let out a breath of air loudly, trying to think of what to say. He nodded slowly as a way to buy himself some time. Would it be best to tell them Kwan and he had been out together? It seemed odd that Danny had just so been the person to catch him by mere coincidence.

"Mister Fenton?" the dark-suited man prompted.

"Yes – okay. Just give me a minute," Danny tried to appear composed to hide the fact that he was quickly trying to think up a story, but one sneak peek at Vlad's warning eyes told him that he had better hurry up and not appear so transparent.

"Kwan and I were walking down the street," he internally winced. He hadn't been sure whether or not it was best to attest that he and Kwan were together at the time of the incident but it was too late to back out now.

"And what were the two of you doing, Mister Fenton?" another one of Vlad's lawyers asked him.

"Getting ice cream," Danny said dumbly after a moment's pause. Vlad's eyes crinkled, but the men around them remained stony-faced. Danny gave an apologetic shrug. They were kids. They liked getting ice cream.

"And what happened then?" the first man asked.

"They … attacked," Danny said lamely.

"Who are 'they'?"

Danny waved his hands about wordlessly. "Ghosts," he finally managed to get out. "I don't know how many of them there were. They were all in this ship."

"I'm sorry – a ship?" another one piped up. "Do you mean that contraption that crashed into the streets in the evening?"

Danny stared at him blankly, then his brain caught up. "Oh – oh, you mean the Specter Speeder!"

"No name has been verified for it," the first man Danny had been speaking to informed. "As of now, it has been tagged by the authorities simply as an unidentified flying object."

"It's my dad's," Danny stated. "He built it."

"Jack Fenton," Vlad clarified beside him. "My old college mate. You'll have to take it up with him I'm afraid."

"Is there any way we could contact your father, Mister Fenton?"

Danny turned to Vlad, who once again took the lead. "Both Daniel's parents are currently under my employ – well, I shouldn't say mine because they work in Axion Labs managed by the CEOs, and I only own it," he gave a self-satisfied grin. Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Several of the men had taken out notepads and were currently jotting down details very quickly. The first lawyer, however, fixed Danny with a level stare.

"Tell me about the Specter Speeder, Mister Fenton," he said plainly.

"Uh, what do you want to know?"

"You say it was created by your father – do you have any idea how it may have crashed in the middle of Amity Park?"

"No," Danny lied. At least his alibi of walking with Kwan protected him from that. His parents would kill him if they found out he had taken the Specter Speeder, much less let someone else take the controls.

"It seems very strange," the lawyer mused, "that your friend who you were with was targeted the same day that your father's invention was stolen. Mister Fenton, I feel that it is in your best interest that I advise you to be perfectly honest with me and my colleagues if we are to help you."

"Am I going to go to jail?" Danny asked fearfully.

"Doubtful," the other man told him. "At the most I would expect there to be an inquiry. All accounts seem to agree that ghosts were responsible for the attack on the young man you were with, and there would be no way to prosecute under such circumstances. But that does not mean you should give the police any reason to suspect that you had a bigger part to play in all of this."

"How could anybody possibly understand the motives of ghosts?" Vlad questioned dismissively. "There is no doubt that they were the cause of this tragedy. Whether this had all been planned beforehand by them or whether it was simply the result of unfortunate circumstance is beyond the point."

The lawyer nodded curtly then turned to Danny. "Just for clarity's sake, Mister Fenton; this ship you mentioned – were you or were you not referring to the Specter Speeder your father invented?"

Danny chewed his lip. What would the consequences of his answer be? If he said yes, would it implicate his father? If he said no, would it make him out to be delusional? He just wanted this to be over. His eyes trailed up to catch Vlad's gaze, but his face was unreadable. He weighed his options, but knew he had to say something fast.

"Mister Fenton?" the lawyer repeated. "Were you referring to the Specter Speeder your father invented?"

Parting his lips, Danny said in a barely audible whisper, "Yes."

The lawyers nodded and continued writing. "Very well; so now all that remains is confirming that Danny Phantom was responsible for the events that occurred, and we shall have your name cleared of any and all charges."

"What? No." Danny shook his head vehemently. "Danny Phantom wasn't responsible for this."

Vlad's grip on his shoulder tightened, but Danny didn't care. The lawyer furrowed his brow. "I don't understand," he said slowly. "You _don't_ blame Danny Phantom for the current condition of your friend?"

"He didn't do anything," Danny insisted. "He tried to save Kwan. Danny Phantom is a hero!"

"Daniel, what are you doing?" Vlad muttered under his breath. "Just let it go."

But Danny wouldn't let it go. If he allowed Vlad's cronies to place the blame on his alter-ego, he would be hated throughout the town, and that was most definitely not something he wanted to live through again.

"Mister Fenton, all reports have agreed that Danny Phantom was the aggressor of these attacks—" the lawyer tried to say, but Danny cut him off.

"I don't care what the reports say. I was the one who was there, and I am telling you, Danny Phantom didn't do this," he said. "He tried to help us. He tried to save us from the other ghosts. They were the ones who started this, and he was trying to help us."

Vlad's lawyer pulled off his glasses and rubbed the lenses with a piece of cloth tiredly. "Well, this certainly complicates things a bit," he said quietly. "You see, no one else has witnessed any other ghosts on the scene."

"Ghosts can turn invisible," Danny argued.

"Mister Fenton," the tone was sharp, "I'm afraid you do not fully comprehend the enormity of this situation. The police are attempting to pin the blame on someone, and right now Danny Phantom is the best lead they've got. If you were to insinuate that there were others behind this, you would—"

"I would what?" Danny challenged. "Drag this out longer than I should by making them do their jobs?"

"Daniel…" Vlad warned.

"No," Danny shook his head resolutely. "I'm not going to let people blame him for this when he was just trying to protect anyone."

"The police can't do anything to him," Vlad snapped. "I told you already, they can't put him in jail."

"They could try to blast him out of the sky," Danny said stubbornly. "They could turn the whole town against him. He doesn't deserve that."

"That's all very fine and good, Mister Fenton," the lawyer said tersely, "but unless there were any witnesses that could confess to seeing these other ghosts—"

"I'm a witness, don't I count?"

"Of course you do, but the fact remains—"

"He's telling the truth," declared a firm voice behind them. Danny turned to see Sam and Tucker clutching on the banister peering at the group surrounding the couch. "We saw them too."

"You mean to say that you were at the scene of the crime?" the lawyer asked skeptically. Sam raised her eyebrow in response. "Very well, then I don't suppose you would mind detailing the ghosts who were involved in this, would you?"

"Excuse me," Vlad rose to his feet, still clutching Danny painfully by the arm, "I'm going to need a moment with the children. We'll be right back." He dragged Danny along with him and ushered the other two teenagers back up the stairs.

"What are you doing?" he demanded with a hiss when they reached the second floor.

"Danny said there were other ghosts and we believe him," Sam crossed her hands over her chest and tapped her leg impatiently. "Obviously."

"Daniel, you are bringing unnecessary grief upon yourself," Vlad turned to the dark-haired boy.

"I'd be causing myself even more grief if I let them run around saying that I was the one who was responsible for all this," Danny said waspishly. "Do you know what the people are going to do if they think that? I'd never be able to show my face in public again."

"Exactly how do you plan to corroborate with his story?" Vlad wheeled around to glare at the offending two.

Danny took this opportunity to quickly refresh their memory of exactly what happened, remembering to keep his voice low so that the group of lawyers waiting downstairs would not be able to overhear them. When they returned, Vlad not having managed to convince them to drop their efforts, they had been asked how they could identify all the ghosts they insisted they'd seen, to which, after a moment's consideration, Sam had dashed upstairs and leaped back down triumphantly brandishing the sketchbook Jazz had started years ago detailing all of the ghosts they'd encountered since she'd learned her brother's secret. The artwork was crude, but they'd been told it would be enough to satisfy the police who had more likely than not encountered the same beings themselves on numerous occasions.

"Well, Daniel," Vlad said hours later as he prepared to depart, "my people seem to have covered all bases, but I must say you've complicated the story far beyond you would have needed to. However it should be enough to satisfy the police."

"It's a complicated story to begin with," Danny commented. "You haven't even heard the full thing yet. Are you going to take back your ghost half?"

"Would you really want me to? No – you're still the safest guard I have for it. You've managed to keep the ghosts at bay so far, I'm sure you'll manage."

"I can't promise I won't destroy the thing myself one day," Danny warned. Vlad chuckled.

"With your ghost powers? I don't think so. Haven't you noticed that you've never actually managed to kill any other ghost in all your years of fighting – nor have I?"

"What are you saying?" Danny's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Vlad pulled his fine coat tighter along himself as he made to follow his team who were already milling about their cars. "It is nearly impossible for one ghost to kill another, Danny. Their inherent powers, our inherent powers, all but prevent outright destruction to another of our kind. You would have to be a significantly powerful ghost to pose any sort of immediate _severe_ threat to another, and even then I doubt you would be able to finish the job with just one blast. As it stands, you could try all you want and I don't think you would even be able to dent the container."

Danny blinked. He hadn't thought of that; now that he considered it, he wondered if Vlad could possibly be right. His mind flew to his past encounters with Aragon, Pariah Dark, and the destruction wrought by his evil self on other ghosts; he had fought well enough, it seemed, to cripple Johnny 13 and for the most part destroy the powers his enemies cherished the most, but they still survived; and despite all the taunts from his older self, he had still failed to kill his 14-year-old half, instead resorting to run their time together out. Even Danny's ghostly wail, one of his strongest attributes, was not enough to completely incapacitate another ghost.

Vlad shut the door quietly behind him, and Danny slumped on to the couch. Tucker placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and Sam chewed on her lip thoughtfully.

"The police are going to be here soon," Danny said in a muffled voice as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "You guys should leave before they bring you in for questioning too."

"Hey, we have to be there to back you up, don't we?" Tucker said. Danny nodded gratefully, although he wasn't sure he wanted to risk Sam and Tucker being there. If the police took his word for it with significantly less skepticism than Vlad's lawyers, he might not even need them to come with him.

It was nearly six o'clock when two irate members of the police force came to the Fenton household. "Save your breath," they told Sam and Tucker when they asked to come to verify Danny's story, "we just need to get a statement from him down at the station."

So they ushered him into the squad car, Danny feeling a little bit like a criminal although he wasn't bound in handcuffs. The two officers wasted no time grating him on how they'd had to field questions from the media all day and hadn't been allowed to collect him for a statement until then due to a word from "the former mayor."

He was led into an isolated room and seated by the two officers, who promptly asked him to recount the events. Danny did as best he could to stick with the story he had told the lawyers, making sure to omit the few details he had kept from them as well.

Once they had written everything down on paper, they turned their eyes back on him. "Any reason why Danny Phantom may have targeted you or your friend?"

Danny clenched his jaw. "I told you, it wasn't him. It was this whole other group of ghosts."

"Fine," one of them, a short squat man with graying hair said dismissively. "Any reason why these ghosts may have targeted you or your friend?"

"I don't know," Danny said curtly. "They're ghosts, who knows why they do anything?"

The two officers shared dark looks with each other, then the other one, younger but not much thinner said, "Your parents are ghost hunters aren't they?"

"Yeah," Danny shrugged uncaringly. "Maybe that's why. I don't know."

They nodded, and the first one wrote something else on the report sheet he was currently filling out.

"How's Kwan?" Danny couldn't stop himself from asking. "Has he woken up yet?"

"No changes," the officer grunted. He passed the sheets of paper to his partner. "Take this to Johnson to get written up." He gestured to Danny with two fingers. "Come with me."

Danny rose up and followed the two officers out quietly. The younger one turned right to enter a back room while the older, shorter one led him to a small desk and pulled out a pad of ink and another sheet of paper. "Press your right thumb against the ink, then against this box right here."

Danny's eyes darted up. "I thought there weren't going to be any charges?"

"There're not," the officer said. "You're being booked." At Danny's suspicious gaze, he sighed and said gruffly, "We gotta get down your details. Now press."

Reluctantly, Danny pushed his thumb against the pad of ink and then against the designated area on the report. "Fill in your name and other details here," the officer waved a pen around the approximate areas Danny was meant to fill. Once he was done, the officer snatched the paper away and said in a low significant tone, "Wait here."

The teenager slouched against the desk, taking in the dismal surroundings until he was joined again by both officers. "Alright, you're free to go," the first one told him, his eyes focused on more paperwork.

Danny glanced out the double doors into the empty streets and back to the two officers. He bit his lip. "I don't have a ride."

The second officer nodded to a phone resting on the desk Danny had been leaning against in response. He sighed, not particularly eager to see his parents right now, and Sam and Tucker would no doubt be filled with questions he was too tired to answer right now. "I'll walk."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The air was nice and cool against his face, though as he walked, Danny couldn't help but wish he had a coat to cover him. He was also starting to wish he'd sucked it up and asked his friends to bring his car over, but it was too late for that.

His legs were only just beginning to sting when he heard a beep behind him. A familiar car reached him and slowed to a crawl.

"Fenton!"

Oh, fantastic. "What do you want, Dash?"

Dash pressed his horn again. "Get in."

Danny paused, considering. "No thanks."

"For God's sake, Danny, just get in the car."

Not in the mood to argue, especially against an already irritated Dash Baxter, Danny just threw up his hands and opened the door to slide in next to him. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you walking. Need a ride?"

"I'm in the car, aren't I?"

Dash tightened his grip around the steering wheel but pulled away from the sidewalk and back on to the road. Just when Danny thought they would spend the entire way in silence, Dash asked him, "Have you been to see Kwan?"

"No. Not since they admitted him yesterday." Danny turned and eyed the blonde boy. "Have you?"

Dash nodded. "Visiting hours ended at six."

"I should go see him," Danny sighed. "How are his parents?"

"Good – as good as they can be, I mean. They don't really talk much to anyone else," Dash told him. He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at Danny, who quickly turned away. "So what happened, Fenton?"

Danny sighed. He just got through talking with Vlad's lawyers and the police; he really didn't want to get into this again. Dash was waiting. "Can I tell you tomorrow?"

"Can I sleep at your place?"

That took Danny with surprise. He gazed appraisingly with Dash, who had his eyes steadfastly on the road. His mind raced. Was Dash asking for them to make up again? Did he want to go back to whatever they were? Danny still didn't know what had come between them, what had caused Dash to leave his bedroom that day so suddenly.

They arrived back at his house, and Dash cuts the engine and turns to him expectantly. Danny waits for one moment, and then nodded almost imperceptibly. He opened the door, and was almost instantly greeted by Sam and Tucker who were apparently waiting for him the whole time. Sam opened her mouth to ask him what happened but both their jaws hung open when they caught sight of the beefy quarterback standing behind him.

Dash paid hardly any notice to the other two as he entered the house. Danny couldn't meet their eyes, and simply said, "Dash is going to staying the night," before following the other boy into the kitchen.

Before they could rejoin his friends in the living room, Danny heard the faint rumble of a car pull into the driveway. The door burst open as Maddie and Jack Fenton entered, both wearing heavy frowns on their faces. Danny curiously stepped out to meet them. "What's wrong?"

Jack pulled a beer out of the fridge, a rare occurrence as Danny ever did see. Even stranger, he tossed a can to Maddie, who accepted it without word. "They're watching us," he growled.

Danny frowned. "What? Who's watching us?"

"The government," his mother replied. Sam and Tucker enter the kitchen to listen to the conversation.

"Wait – what happened at the town meeting?" Danny questioned them.

"They were discussing security measures," Jack scoffed. "We went in to show them all the equipment we'd come up with to protect the town, but that's not what they were interested in. They've turned the whole matter over to the government. _And_ they've placed us under their new 'procedures'."

"The Guys in White?" Sam guessed.

"This is outrageous!" Maddie burst out. "Jack, they can't do this!"

Danny dazedly walked over to the windows, drawing back the curtain to stare into the lit street. His heart sank when he caught sight of a plain white truck situated across them. Sam, Tucker, Dash, and his parents joined him.

"They're here for our 'protection'," Jack scoffed, taking a large sip of his drink. "On our house, at work, at your school – you probably won't even be able to go out without them tailing you."

Danny let the curtain drop back, cold fear taking his heart as he shared deeply uneasy looks with Sam and Tucker.

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Author's Note: Yes, I am back. I took a long break – probably longer than I should have – just to refresh myself, got the chance to just pull away from writing for a while, explored a couple of new fandoms, and such, but I have not abandoned this story because it's just gotten too far to cut off, and I do adore this story very much. You'll notice one significant change though; this story is no longer going to be a trilogy. I'm very sorry about that, and I probably should not have gotten so carried away with the concept, but it just seems like it would be better for me to set a reasonable end date for this story rather than trying to reach such a grand scale and risk losing interest in this completely in the middle, especially with no new episodes to fuel interest in me or the readers for very much longer. I'm trying to aim for 30 chapters in this fic, but I may go over it if I think a further 6 chapters will rush it out too much, and I do so hate rushing stories out. Please read and review, I would love to know I haven't lost you guys, and I require your love. Thanks for taking the time to review, I really do appreciate every single one of you.


	25. No, I Don't Care At All

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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The night was tense. Danny's parents had asked Sam, Tucker and Dash to call home for permission to spend the night at the Fenton residence as they did not want to take the chance of any of their guests being followed by the Guys in White at such a late hour. Sam was spending the night in Jazz's room, Dash had been granted Danny's bed, and Danny and Tucker were relegated to the pullout couch in the living room. Tucker was currently flipping through channels with the television on mute while Danny spent a good portion of the night staring at the plain white truck across the street next to where his own car was parked with a hard look on his face.

"You didn't leave any ghost stuff in your car, did you?" Tucker asked. Danny shook his head but didn't tear his eyes away from the spot.

Tucker turned the television off, apparently having found nothing worth watching without sound, and pulled the covers up over his body. "You'd better come to bed," he advised. "There's nothing you can do about the Guys in White now."

"I'm not going to sleep while people spy on my family," Danny replied. Tucker didn't bother arguing and just turned on his side and drifted off.

Eventually Danny joined him, closing his eyes but not really allowing himself to fade into deep sleep as they all had to wake up in two hours to get ready for school. When the alarm rang, he was the first one up, nudging Tucker back into consciousness before going to take a shower. Tucker was still asleep when he stepped out, but Sam was already at the breakfast table, dressed but not looking very refreshed as she munched on an apple and glanced through the morning paper. She looked up as he stepped in to pour himself a glass of orange juice.

"So what are you going to do?" she asked in a low voice when he sat himself down.

"I don't know," he told her. "We have to get them out of here, but the second I turn into Danny Phantom, they're going to fire those missiles no questions asked."

They fell silent when Dash walked in, his hair slick and pushed back, smelling of Danny's cologne. He poured himself a cup of coffee which Danny's mom had set last night and joined them at the table. Tucker wandered in, yawning and stretching, blearily reaching into the fridge to pour himself a glass of milk.

"Aren't you going to shower?" Sam asked. She, notorious for her hatred of wearing the same clothes after bathing as it made her feel disgusting, had opted for one of Jazz's leftover, considerably brighter outfits.

"Nah," Tucker smacked his lips. "I'll just do it after gym." Sam wrinkled her nose.

Jack and Maddie walked in then, dressed in their typical jumpsuits and wearing tense looks on their faces. Except for Tucker, none of them looked like they had gotten an ounce of sleep last night.

"I want you all to be very careful," Maddie told the kids as she and her husband sat down in their usual seats. "I don't know if there are going to be anymore agents in school, but I don't want any of you to give them a reason to question you."

"We won't," Sam promised. Danny simply looked down at his orange juice.

"Maybe it would be best if you guys didn't come over for a bit," Jack advised, stealing a quick look at the sliver of daylight piercing through the curtain Danny had parted.

"We don't mind, Mister Fenton," Sam said again. "We wouldn't want you to go through this alone."

"No, my dad's right," Danny said, catching their gaze. "Don't come round here anymore. Not till it's safe."

Sam opened her mouth to argue, but closed it when Tucker shot her a warning look. Maddie pasted a tight smile on her face. "Well, we'd better be heading off. Kids, you should get to school too."

Jack grabbed a bagel and followed his wife out the door. Danny pushed his chair back and dumped the remaining contents of his drink into the sink, while Dash hastily gulped down the rest of his coffee and made to wash the mug. Sam was still glaring at him in her seat when he pulled out his car keys.

"Why would you say that?" she demanded as soon as they had all piled into Danny's car. Dash was sitting up front while Tucker and Sam had climbed into the back. Danny gave the white truck one last dirty look before peeling away.

"There's nothing you can do about it," he said shortly. "You might as well not put yourself in any danger. You need to worry there's no one watching your houses instead of trying to keep us company."

Sam sat back and grumbled under her breath, but Danny didn't care. It was for the best. This was a family affair, not one to concern his friends with.

It seemed word had already spread about the government's involvement with the case, and also of their presence around the Fenton. Most people, he found, avoided his gaze, and the few people he did talk to seemed eager to keep their conversations brief before rushing away in the opposite direction.

"They probably think you're bugged or something," Tucker said when Danny brought it up during lunch. Though they usually had a table to themselves, due to their status as losers, the immediate vicinity around them seemed emptier than usual.

"What are they so afraid of?" Danny stabbed at his meatloaf viciously. "It's not like any of them are involved with ghosts."

"People get afraid when they hear about government interference, no matter what they're investigating," Sam said. "Truthfully, Danny, you're going to need all the friends you can get right now."

"And that's why I shouldn't turn down your offer to keep me company at home, right?" Danny guessed. "Forget it."

At least one person didn't seem phased by the news. "Oh, it's so exciting!" Paulina gushed. "If they release tapes to some ghost-hunting program or whatever, it'd be like you had your own reality show!"

Paulina seemed to be alone in her eagerness. For once, the student body at Casper High was more than willing to ignore her lead, and kept away from Danny. "Bet she still wouldn't come within ten feet of you even if it is just to get on camera," Sam whispered after they'd left, much to Danny's annoyance.

Whether the school had been infiltrated or not, Danny didn't find out. If the Guys in White were there, they certainly took care to stay out of sight.

Such could not be said for the agents situated outside the Fenton residence. When Danny arrived home, the first thing he noticed was that the plain white truck had not moved an inch. Deciding not to park in his usual spot, he instead took the time to make a U-turn to park directly in front of his house, blocking the path leading to the door. He unlocked it and let himself inside, and tossed his bookbag on the couch before slumping down on it. He had to come up with a plan to get these guys off his back.

Approximately fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang. Danny got to his feet and cautiously approached it, unsure of who would be on the other side. Slowly he turned the knob and opened the door slightly enough to peer outside.

Dash was standing there with his hands on his hips.

Danny flung the door wide open. "Dash!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"You haven't forgotten that I'm still supposed to watch over you, have you?"

"It's not safe here."

Dash scoffed. "What, because of them?" he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the white truck across the street. "Screw them. I've been assigned here."

Danny pulled him into the house, not wanting them to remain in sight much longer.

"Dash," he said slowly when he closed the door and locked it again, "my parents said for you not to come over until this whole thing has been resolved."

"I thought you guys were talking about your friends?" Dash quirked an eyebrow.

"You're not my friend?" Danny teased.

Dash took the bait, leaning in with a knowing smirk. "Oh, I think I can be something much better than a friend … Danny." He practically breathed the last word right into Danny's face before capturing his lips in a kiss.

Danny pulled away, feeling self-conscious though he knew there was no way for the agents inside the truck outside were able to see them. Still, there was no trusting anyone from the government. Dash seemed to understand Danny's hesitation, and pulled away. "We still need to talk."

Dash nodded silently. Danny began walking to the stairs. "Let's do it in my room."

The single window in Danny's room provided the perfect overhead view of the van parked across the street. Danny couldn't resist staring at it even though he knew Dash was waiting for him to begin. "Danny..."

"Yeah," he drew back reluctantly, not at all eager to have this conversation. "Yeah, I'm coming." He set his eyes on Dash's own, which seemed to him to be full of sincerity despite the coldness of their depths. There was a long moment wherein the two boys just stared at each other, hardly even noticing the silence. "Why did you ditch me?" Danny asked bluntly.

Dash's shoulders slumped. "I was hoping we wouldn't get straight to the point."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know how to answer that," he replied, looking at the floor. Danny wrapped his arms around himself expecting the bigger boy to continue. "Look, Danny – this whole thing we're doing…"

"Do you want to stop?"

"No," Dash said immediately, looking back up at Danny again. "No; if I did, I wouldn't have come back."

"I don't understand what you want from me." Frustration began to claw at him. "Dash, you were the one who kissed me; you were the one who grabbed my hand and made me touch you; and then you disappeared without a single word, you avoid my calls, and now you're back. I just – I need you to explain." The grief Danny had experienced began to well up inside him. "Is this a game? Because I'm not that good at playing. I've never had anyone to show me how."

"It's not a game," Dash said quietly. Danny's hands, which had previously been tensing, flopped lamely to his sides.

"Danny," Dash began again heavily, but again fell silent. Danny wasn't looking at him anymore, but Dash still had his eyes trained on the brunette. "This was just supposed to be an experiment."

Danny turned to face him so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash. His eyes were wide and uncomprehending. "It _was_!"

"Yeah, that's what you said, but you didn't feel that, did you?"

If Danny was nonplussed before, he was downright lost now. "What are you talking about?"

"Every time you said to me, 'This is just an experiment, right?' – were you asking me … or were you asking _yourself_?"

"Of course I was asking you," Danny's brow furrowed. "Why would I voice a question out loud if I was asking myself?"

Dash clutched Danny's hand by the wrist. Not having expected the sudden contact, Danny flinched. "The way you touch me," Dash murmured in a low voice, "the way you lie on my body; the way you bring me to orgasm – can you tell me it was the same as the first time we touched?"

He pushed himself off the chair and brought himself closer to Danny, forcing the smaller boy backward until he was lying prone on the mattress. "When it was wild; when all we cared about was feeling good and nothing else. Is that what you felt every time after that?" He was on top of Danny now, covering his compact frame with his own bulkier one. "Because I could see it in your eyes every time you spoke to me – the uncertainty, the _hope_ – you were just waiting for me to tell you no, that we have something more than what we said we did, weren't you?"

Danny couldn't speak, so he shook his head. No, he hadn't – he knew they'd simply been exploring their own carnal desires with each other; he knew they'd only turned to each other because they didn't have anyone else. He'd been alone for so long, and Dash was willing, he'd wanted it too. Granted, Danny had dedicated most of his time in the weeks after Paulina's party to this thing they had, but so what? Dash had been right there with him too. All those times he'd gone to the other boy to confirm that what they were doing was purely physical, it was just a need for him to reassure himself that he was still a man, still normal despite everything he was doing with another boy.

But he remembered the ache he had felt when Dash had walked out on him, the pain he had felt every day wondering if he'd ever come back, and the bitter resentment he'd held on to refusing to have anything to do with the other boy afterward. Had Dash been going through the same thing? It didn't sound like it. But why was he back then, if he felt so certain that Danny had wanted a deeper kind of relationship?

Dash was so close now, their noses mere inches from each other, so close that Danny had to cross his eyes to keep focus. He was holding both of Danny's hands now, trapping them between their bodies. "I knew it," the blonde boy said. "That day when I left, I did it because I saw it in your eyes more clearly than ever before. I could even feel it in your touch, way too gentle; and I knew you were reaching the point where it couldn't be just something physical to you anymore."

It was infuriating the way Dash seemed to be more articulate now than Danny could ever remember him being yet kept spouting words he couldn't make sense of. He felt Dash's sentiments carry him through the past days, revisiting every emotion he had been filled with when they were together, and when they were not. Danny had to concede in the end that there was a certain degree of tenderness that bolstered him after he and Dash had collided together that Saturday night.

Was it true? Had Danny fallen for him? In a way he had, it was clear to him now, but subtle enough that he hadn't even realized it. It was, it seemed to him as he went through images of Dash and himself in his mind, a kind of progress drifting away from apathy and physical need to something that was most definitely not love, for lack of better word, but still _far too close_ than he thought he would ever feel for the jock. And now Dash was coming closer, Danny's eyes crossing until he could take no more and had to close them, and his lips were on his again.

Danny's hands broke free from Dash's grip, which had loosened sometime during this period of reflection, to come around Dash's back and wrap themselves around his frame. The kiss deepened, and Danny felt himself sink deeper into the bed.

Danny didn't know how long they ended up making out, but eventually his brain, which had apparently short-circuited some time during the session managed to pass a feeble thought that there was still much to talk about, and Danny managed to push Dash off him.

"I still don't understand," he said. "Okay, I get that you freaked, but why are you back now?" Given Dash's explanation and Danny's realization that he _may_ have been right, he couldn't comprehend how the both of them had managed to find themselves in the same room together again, much less on his bed getting hot and heavy with each other.

Dash lay on his back, considering Danny with his eyes, while Danny pushed himself to a sitting position, leaning back on the mattress at an angle with his hands supporting him.

"I guess this whole thing with Kwan forced me to start thinking," Dash told him. "My best friend is the hospital and he might never wake up. It doesn't really have anything to do with anything, except that it made me see that keeping myself away from someone who might actually care is probably the stupidest thing I could do."

Danny's mind was racing. Dash propped himself up on an elbow facing Danny on his side. "I don't want to stop doing this. Not yet. In a few months we might be on separate ends of the country, I don't know. But we keep saying we started this whole thing to feel good – why stop it when it could just get better."

Danny's mind stopped racing. For a moment he had thought Dash was going to say something … well, more romantic. He wasn't sure if that was what he wanted to hear, but it certainly made his words more underwhelming.

Perhaps Dash could see it in his eyes, because he was quick to say, "I don't know if I love you. I don't think you love me yet, but—"

"We're getting there," Danny finished for him. Hadn't he just been thinking the same only a few minutes ago?

Dash nodded. "But I've realized it might not be the worst thing if it ends that way. And that's something, isn't it?"

Danny's head felt too heavy for him to nod, if that were possible, so his only answer was to lean down and meet the other boy for a kiss.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of green and pulled away with a gasp. Dash looked momentarily confused, but his expression turned to one of surprise when Danny got up from the bed and stomped over to the window to pull the frame up and stick his head out. His face twisted in anger when he found Skulker on the roof of the building adjacent to them, which he had no doubt hurried to when he realized the half-ghost had seen him, holding a pair of binoculars in his hand. Danny's eyes swiveled to the familiar spot across the street where the white van was parked. There was no reaction from the agents hiding inside. Of course they had missed the one ghost floating in plain sight. Danny felt his anger boil. He was so _sick_ of being spied on.

"Come on," he snarled, pulling Dash by the hand and forcefully dragging him along outside his room.

"Where are we going?" Dash cried, but Danny didn't reply. He was so angry he was practically seeing red, and the rage inside him made him feel reckless. Wildly, Dash swung side to side, still latched on to Danny who was trying to maneuver himself without knocking anything over. Dash was surprised he didn't rip the front door off its hinges. Danny stopped abruptly on the porch, slamming the door shut behind Dash with his other hand and turned to face him. Dash was too taken aback by the storminess of his eyes and the heaviness of his breathing to ask what they were doing out here.

Before he could open his mouth, Danny dropped to his knees.

Dash's eyes bulged.

"Danny, what are you—" his voice failed when Danny reached up to fondle the bulge visible in the front of his tight jeans. It gave a pleasurable twitch in response, and Danny's fingertips skirted to the zipper just a few inches to the left. "_Danny…_" Dash hissed both in warning and in pleasure.

Danny didn't avert his attention from his task. With a firm yank, he pulled the little golden tab down all the way and reached inside the newly-open path. He brushed against the cotton of Dash's boxers, red, he could see from the small bit of material poking out, and brushed his thumb against the prize, feeling a surge of satisfaction when it lengthened immediately.

Self-conscious though he might have felt, Dash could not deny his bodily reactions. By the time Danny pulled his cock out, it was almost entirely hard, and throbbing with more sensitivity than he could ever remember. His eyes fluttered almost all the way closed so that he could only see the boy below him through the fringes of his eyelashes. When he felt Danny's other hand against his thigh, gently steering him backwards, he practically melted against the door, his hands reaching out to grip the doorframe to steady himself. When Danny wrapped his fingers around him to give a few experimental tugs, and also to coax that final bit of pressure, Dash let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan.

Danny almost smirked at this, but still kept his face hidden from Dash's view. Leaning in, he paused to consider just how insane this was, but not for long since he could not afford to let his brain catch up long enough to talk him into going back inside. He didn't realize how close he was during these few moments, and it wasn't until the hot breath from his mouth caused Dash's penis to grow even harder in his hand that he was drawn back to reality.

At a final attempt to tease his prey, and perhaps to ease himself into the task he was about to perform, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the head. Then, with one final swallow to wash away the dryness in his throat, he parted his lips and extended his neck forward.

It was like sucking on a giant blood blister. Danny had so far only taken the head into his mouth and had frozen right there as though his being needed a moment to comprehend what was happening. When he finally felt as though he were in control again, his eyes crossed to bring into focus the object before him. Only the rigid shaft of Dash's penis could be seen as the tip was currently enveloped in his mouth which had gone dry again. He felt it poking against the inside of his cheek, causing an obscene bump on the side of his face. Tentatively he drew his tongue, which felt like sandpaper, up against it. Danny wasn't sure how good that would feel – he had always thought the best thing about blowjobs was the feeling of being encased in smooth moistness, the exact opposite of what his mouth felt like right now – but judging by the audible hitch in Dash's breath, he appreciated it just as much.

Slowly he drew his lips back halfway and, hearing a whine emit from Dash, edged forward again to encase the whole head. Danny drew a deep breath from his nose, not having realized until then that he'd been holding his breath, and then pushed forward slowly to take in the shaft inch by inch. He felt every bump of the veins coiled around the piece, and paused to roll his tongue once again around the amount he had taken in. Dash let out a growl. Danny still refused to look up.

It was surprising how much mental work was involved. Anyone who thought blowjobs were easy had clearly never done it before – or perhaps had done it too often. If he didn't focus every bit of concentration on his task, Danny felt it would be very easy to be overwhelmed

He was well aware that Skulker was on the next house over watching; that there was a van full of government agents who were probably staring in disbelief; he didn't even want to think about the neighbors who may have caught sight of this little show through their windows; all he cared about were the gasps and the moans Dash was desperately trying to squelch as Danny took him in deeper, deeper...

_Oh_ – _now_ he was looking up. Dash gave an involuntary shudder of pleasure when Danny's blue eyes rose to meet his as his cheeks hollowed. Gone was the storminess Dash had previously seen raging in them, but they were still dark, a different kind of darkness, brought on by lust.

Danny had taken it almost the whole way in. He paused frequently, struggling to control his gag reflex that was telling him to spit the whole thing out, another thing that required a massive amount of concentration and effort. Dash, lay his trembling hand on top of Danny's head, stroking through the soft black hair. "Take it," he half-whispered, half-muttered.

The voice sent a jolt straight through Danny's system, leading all the way down to his pants where there was an uncomfortable tent. As much as he wanted to, he did not dare whip out his own cock, though he knew that with his back facing the van, there was no way anyone would be able to see him. So he instead worked on complying with Dash's request and taking in the last couple of inches down his throat until his nose would touch Dash's crotch, which he kept trimmed, Danny was surprised to find. How very thoughtful.

When finally Danny had taken the whole eight inches, Dash tossed his back to bang it against the door letting a sigh, almost as if relieved, and his legs began to tremble. Danny's lips, though wider than the girth of Dash's prick, had automatically shifted so as to form a tight seal around it that he wasn't sure he could loosen even if he wanted. It was as if his lips were gripping onto the circumference of Dash's dick as though his life depended on it.

Danny paused a moment to revel in this accomplishment and to consider what to do now. He remembered the things he had read on the website before, and closing his eyes, proceeded to apply more pressure, emulating a vacuum. Dash let out a loud grunt of pleasure, and Danny could see his fingers grapple with the doorframe even more forcefully.

Darting his tongue about, he dragged it along the underside of the cock, then tickled the base of it with its tip before twisting it so that it lifted to the side and brought it backwards. He wanted to be able to do more, but he was trying to keep afloat with all that was happening now as it was. For a first timer, he thought he was doing a good enough job.

Inspiration struck. He willed his lips to thin, folding in on themselves so that the dry tissue rubbed against Dash's cock on top and at the bottom, and then slowly _dragged_ himself backwards, maintaining the same amount of pressure that he had been applying to suck him in.

Dash's breath was coming in short bursts now. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold off with this kind of treatment. He felt as though Danny was trying to pull his dick out with the amount of force he was presenting. Just as he thought it couldn't get any better – _how_ did the smaller boy get the idea that the feel of his dry, cracking lips could be used to add to the pleasure of the experience? – he felt slender fingers graze against his balls, which had been taken out sometime during the blowjob he was so currently lost in. Dash's mouth twisted in pleasure. Danny's fingers seemed unsure, almost afraid, but it only served to make it all the better for him. Truly there was something to be said about the lightest touch.

He didn't dare open his eyes and take in Danny's face again for fear of coming too soon, but when he felt that lone finger scratching upwards, burying itself inside his underwear to reach that spot just behind his balls, he knew it was a lost cause. His eyes snapped open for one second and he breathed as though it were his first time, then they snapped shut and there was only darkness again, and he was sighing, "_Danny, Danny, Danny…_"

Danny heard and felt the warning signs. The pulsating cock trapped deep down his throat seemed to engorge even more, the drops of pre-cum that fell upon his tongue now leaked like a river down his gullet, the wordless indecipherable grunts grew into a mess of chants, and the hand that had been running through his hair now gripped locks of it, nails scraping against his scalp in desperation. His cheeks hollowed, the smooth lining of the inside caving in around the object that was being lavished upon by his tongue. Just a few more strokes up and down and it was over—

A grunt, a moan, and suddenly Dash was letting out a roar that sounded painful only in the fact that he was obviously trying to keep it in, and the constant stream of salty liquid that had been running through Danny's mouth turned into a gushing, bursting dam as Dash let loose. Danny's eyes widened for a moment. For all his work, this wasn't something he had really counted on. He considered holding it in and spitting, but his mouth was rapidly filling up as jet after jet of hot white liquid spurted from the head of Dash's cock and into him, and really, having to bear it in his mouth was just as disgusting as swallowing. He didn't seem to have much of a choice either as it seemed that Dash was unloading more into him than he could handle in one sitting.

Hastily he swallowed, keeping his eyes open as though it would help him. Who knew a simple act of swallowing would require focus as well? He had to work his jaw muscles to constantly fit into shape the cum that he was being fed so that none of it leaked out, had to keep taking it down so that there would be enough space that none overflowed.

Both of Dash's hands had moved to Danny's head now, holding it in position against his groin, grimacing in pleasure as he thrust deeper and deeper down the boy's throat in effort to spread the warmth he offered around every spare inch of him. Danny had gone still except that Dash could feel the muscles in his throat working as quickly as they could to take him in and keep him down, and God, that was so _hot_.

The blackness that filled him turned into blasts of white as the final moments of Dash's orgasm drew to a close. His muscles, so tense and tight just a second ago, immediately released, and his knees almost buckled, and he would have slumped to the floor if not for the door which he was slouched against. The hands which had been holding Danny so close before loosened their grip and turned into gentle caresses against his soft skin, his thumbs tracing over Danny's cheekbones in some show of affection. Danny seemed rather dazed himself, allowing Dash to do whatever he pleased while he took a moment to collect himself, then finally drew back on his knees and pressed his hands against his own thighs before getting to his feet.

There were no words, only gestures. With his eyes Dash tried to express his thanks and question the motive behind the encounter, but Danny simply smiled, took his hand in one of his own, and with the other turned the doorknob and led him back into the house. Dash didn't miss the backward glance he gave to the lone white van.

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Author's Note: A little short, perhaps. I would have liked the sex scene to have been longer and way more graphic and dirtier, but this is what I came out with in the end. I hope you guys liked it. Points to me for finding a way to use the word 'squelch'. :D Thanks for all your reviews in the last chapter, I hope to hear from as many of you as possible. Please tell me what you thought.


	26. Aching For Normalcy

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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Dash spent the rest of the week at the Fenton residence much to Jack and Maddie's displeasure, but they had allowed it when Danny had explained to them that it was part of a school assignment. Unfortunately due to some persistent questions about what sort of school assignment could possibly be important enough for Danny to risk his friend's safety by allowing him to stay while the government cased the Fenton residence on his parents' part and abnormally slow thinking on Danny's part, the truth had eventually come out about the school counselor and Mr. Lancer having imposed Dash's presence on Danny for the past couple of months. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton weren't too pleased, but had determined that it certainly did count as an important assignment; they knew, after all, that whatever issues others had with their children's mental health most probably stemmed from their lifestyle. Dash had insisted that he didn't mind coming by every day and that indeed Danny had tried to convince him otherwise but it had been Dash's own decision to continue their sessions together. Danny's parents had allowed it in the end with only one remaining issue that they wouldn't want their guests leaving the house too late at night, but Danny had negotiated that Dash would spend the night whenever he came over.

"But isn't he coming over every day for the rest of the semester?" Jack frowned.

"Only on weekdays," Danny assured, though this wasn't necessarily true as Dash sometimes dropped by during the weekends though he had only been ordered by the school to go to the Fenton residence five days a week.

"Well," Maddie sighed, "I don't think we have a choice. If the school thinks it's best..."

"They do," Danny said quickly, already pushing Dash up the stairs ahead of him. "We're going to work on some homework. See you at dinner!"

He closed the door to his bedroom loudly and neither wasted a moment before they were wrapped in each other's arms, kissing passionately.

Danny grunted, the kiss deepening as Dash pushed the both of them backwards to lands ungracefully on the bed. Dash's tongue slipped into Danny's mouth and the two tangled and danced around each other. Danny sank deeper into the bed as Dash placed his arms on either side of Danny's frame, trying to balance himself. Slowly their hips moved together, their jean-clad erections providing a friction both boys delighted in. Danny's fingers ran through Dash's hair, breaking the pattern the blonde had gelled it in and mussing it up.

They broke apart when they heard yelling permeate through the door. Danny pushed Dash off of him, sitting up with a perplexed expression on his face. "What the hell…?"

They made their way downstairs to find Jack and Maddie shoving two men in white jackets and dark sunglasses towards the door angrily.

"Get the fuck out of my house!" Jack Fenton bellowed, giving the burlier agent a mighty heave.

"And stay out!" Maddie gritted her teeth pushing the front door shut and bearing her weight against it to prevent them from entering the house again.

"Mom? Dad? What's going on?" Danny asked. The swell of his erection – and Dash's – had disappeared during their descent down the stairs and upon the sight of his parents arguing with the two men.

Jack was now leaning against the door to add his weight along with his wife's, but after a moment, they both straightened, apparently satisfied that they wouldn't be barged in on again. Maddie's eyes were still furious when she turned them on Danny, and there was a bead of sweat running from her forehead down her cheek. "Danny, I'm sorry," she said breathlessly, her teeth still clenched together; "you're going to have to say goodbye to Dash. We can't have him any longer beyond tonight."

"What's going on?" Danny asked again slowly, though he had a pretty good idea of what had just transpired in the living room. He had never seen his typically easygoing parents so angry before.

"They're trying to put cameras in our house, that's what's going on!" Jack said loudly, lowering his voice when his wife gave him a reprimanding look. "In fact, maybe it would be better if you went and stayed over at a friend's place for a while."

"What?" Danny burst out. "No way!" They couldn't possibly expect him to just abandon them and keep away from the house, could they?

Maddie held up a gloved hand wearily. "We'll discuss this tomorrow," she said. "But we can't have Dash over any longer. Dash, I'm sorry, you can spend the night in Danny's room, but tonight is the last night." Dash nodded dumbly, and she crossed the room to enter into the kitchen. Jack followed her with one last wary look at the door, as though threatening to harm it if it dared to let any more agents into the threshold.

Dinner was a simple affair. The leftover chicken from last night was used, and Jack and Maddie had tossed together a salad and rounded off the meal with a side dish of rice. The four of them sat around the table eating quietly and glaring down at their plates. The only noise to fill the room was the sound of chewing and sipping water. Jack broke the silence once, muttering to Danny, "Don't sleep downstairs tonight," to which Danny sullenly nodded, too angry to even be glad of the fact that he would get to share his bed with Dash. He highly doubted they would be getting down to any funny business with the foul mood he was in right now anyway. Dash seemed to sense that, for when they undressed and lay silently in the bed, Danny's back turned to him, he wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and just held him. Danny wasn't about to voice his appreciation anytime soon, but he allowed it all the same.

On Monday, Danny and Dash woke up to find an empty house. Danny's parents had left early for work, but the heavy tension that had settled in the Fenton residence was still all too apparent with the two boys knowing this would be the last they could see of each other within Danny's home.

"It's not so bad," Dash tried to reassure him. "You can always come live with me. Your folks said you can stay with a friend right? I can be that guy."

"I'm not leaving them," Danny said, keeping his eyes on the bowl of cereal he was stirring half-heartedly. "And the last thing you need is to have these guys staking out your house too – if they haven't already; do you even know what's going on at your place?"

"I'm sure I would have noticed a white truck parked outside. I don't think these guys are anywhere but your place. I haven't seen them around school."

"Trust me, they're watching," Danny said darkly. "It's just that they're allowed to make their presence known here. They're going to be a lot less obvious everywhere else."

Admittedly, Danny hadn't been able to find any signs of the Guys in White around Casper High either, but he hadn't dared go ghost to truly search them out. Prior experience had taught him that for all their indiscretions, the government could be incredibly stealthy when they wanted to.

"We could always hang out after school," Dash said. "Why do we always have to come back here anyway? No wonder you have no social life."

Danny shot him a glare, but couldn't keep a smirk from creeping on his face. The jock's classic tactlessness always seemed to have that effect on him these days.

"We could go to the Nasty Burger," Dash offered.

"Awww," Danny cooed sarcastically, "you'd actually want to be seen in public with me?" He could still remember a time when Dash was only too willing to lock himself inside so no one would guess that he would be spending his afternoons with his one-time favorite punching bag.

Dash rolled his eyes. "I've sat at the same table with you at the Nasty Burger before," he said. Danny snickered. Checking the clock that hung against the wall next to the refrigerator, he clapped his hands together loudly and stood up.

"Come on, we've got to get to school."

Dash quickly washed his coffee mug, but Danny didn't bother cleaning up his uneaten cereal. He'd do it after school. It would keep him busy, which meant one minute less obsessing over his predicament with Kwan and the Guys in White.

The somber atmosphere that had invaded FentonWorks had also settled on Casper High. Kwan's accident, Lancer's outburst and subsequent probationary status, rumors of the school being kept under government surveillance had set a hush over the students like a blanket. Danny was more of an outcast than ever, despite his connection to Dash and Paulina, the school's reigning king and queen, and Kwan himself, who had been one of the most popular students being on the football team. So affected was Danny's reputation that Dash and Paulina suddenly found their own statuses plummeting. Star, usually found attached to Paulina's side like a leech and hanging on to her every word, had begun to keep her distance. Paulina's legions of fans were also dissipating; less and less people were beginning to crowd around her, though she still had the entire student body wrapped around her little finger as was evidenced by Sam, who had been roped into going shopping with her the previous Wednesday and testified that Paulina still retained her power to deem clothes that were red-hot as uncool if she wasn't able to find one in her size. Dash, though still a commanding force in Casper High, had failed to find a right-hand man with the position empty since Kwan's admission into Amity General, and though he still sat proud at the middle of the jock's table during lunch, Danny noticed that hardly any of his comrades included him in their conversations. Indeed Dash was more likely found hunching over his tray and chewing like his life depended on it rather than the boisterous and arrogant figure he once was.

To Danny's surprise, Dash and Paulina didn't seem too torn up about the situation. "Why should we be?" Dash replied when Danny brought the topic up. "We rule this school, Fenton. So what if people are freaked that we're hanging with you guys these days? After all this time, I think we deserve being able to do that without questions asked."

"Denial," Sam sang under her breath. Dash frowned but didn't say anything.

"You better watch your mouth, girly," Paulina leaned towards her. "We might not have nobodies circling around us right now, but I can still ruin a reputation like _that_," she snapped her fingers.

Sam rolled her eyes. Having struggled to maintain her individuality and never having cared for such trivial things as gossip and social standings, she was little impressed by the cheerleader's threats.

Dash and Paulina said goodbye to Sam, Tucker and Danny then, heading off to Math class while the other three had History. On the way to their class, Danny filled his friends in on what was going on at home. "…and now they want me to stay with a friend."

"You can stay with us," Tucker offered. "Uh, but it might be a little cramped – maybe Sam's would be a better idea. She has all those extra rooms."

"I'm sure your parents would love that," Danny said to the goth girl. "I'm not going anywhere. My parents are being ridiculous."

"They're just trying to help," Sam rationalized. "Maybe this will be good for you. If the Guys in White are casing your place because of your parents, staying somewhere else for a while will give you a chance to … _you know_," her voice dropped to a whisper.

Danny scoffed. "They're not casing my place because of my parents, _I'm_ the one who dragged us all into this mess. Wherever I go, the Guys in White are sure to follow. At least this way, I'll be able to keep them in sight."

Their conversation ended then as they entered Lancer's class. Since the school board had decided to place Mr. Lancer on probation, Principal Ishiyama had been forced to assign a teacher to the back of every one of his class to mark down anything of note on a clipboard to be submitted at the end of each day. The extra pair of eyes had stopped all flows of conversation, note-passing and text messaging the students usually indulged in. It was one of the upsides as far as Lancer was concerned, but it wasn't enough to cause him to mask his irritation with the entire process. The bad mood resulting from the balding man's frustration along with the dullness of the subjects he taught, all in all, made his classes a living hell.

"Fenton!" he barked as soon as he had set his briefcase on the table, "Review the points we went over last week on the Great Depression."

"Uh…" Danny struggled to remember what they had talked about. He snuck a peek at the messy notes he had taken that were laid out in front of him. "It … took place … in the … 30s?"

Lancer looked unmoved, his arms across his chest. "And?"

"And … we don't … have it anymore?" Danny cringed.

"Oh, very good Mister Fenton," Lancer said sarcastically. "I'm sure you'll get through your finals next month with flying colors. I look forward to seeing you proudly wave that diploma of yours. Foley—" Tucker shot upright, "—describe the actions taken by President Roosevelt to stimulate the economy out of its slump."

Tucker's eyes darted wildly. "Uh … he imposed taxes."

Lancer raised an eyebrow.

And so the lesson continued in this fashion, with Lancer quizzing everyone in the class in random fashion with such severity in his tone that even the enthusiasts of the class were hardly able to give a proper answer. At the end of the hour, Lancer was standing hunched over his desk with his arms pressed hard against the surface, head bowed and eyes all but gone due to his furrowed brow. "This won't do, this won't do," he was muttering.

"Do you people realize that your finals commence in less than a _month_?" he questioned, fixing the entire class with a glare. "Do you _realize_, regardless of the scores you've achieved in your SATs and the positions you may have secured in the colleges you applied to, that you will not be allowed to _graduate_ if you fail even one class? Do you realize that _summer school_ may not be an option open to you to save your skins?"

Every student seemed to be frozen in their seats. Mr. Lancer was quite obviously having some sort of breakdown, and seemed intent on taking everyone down with him. He was now pacing the classroom, walking in between desks and glaring heavily down on each student who caught his eye, his nostrils flaring like a bull's.

"I suggest that from this point on all of you spend any free periods you have in the library burying your heads in your _textbooks_!" he slammed an open palm down on the thick hardcover book that lay closed on the desk of a squeaky blond girl who gave a gasp of fright. "And double that effort when you get home every afternoon. If you wish to move forward with your lives – if you wish to make something out of yourselves – if you wish to _get out of Casper High_…" he left the threat hanging in the air and piled his papers into his briefcase, locked it, and marched out of the classroom. Only when he was gone did the students – and the second teacher situated at the back of the classroom – get to their feet and shakily stumble out of the room looking even worse than they usually did after encountering a ghost.

By lunch, Danny had to carefully tread over the scattered limbs of students laying about various points of the school, intently reading different schoolbooks and jotting down hasty notes. Mr. Lancer was in rare form; Danny didn't usually see this kind of behavior until finals week itself. Sam and Tucker joined him by his locker, also holding heavy textbooks in their arms.

"I've never seen the library this crowded before!" Tucker yelped as soon as they reached Danny's locker.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Yes, there must have been about eight students, including the two of us in there."

"Still," Danny gestured to their classmates littering the floor, "Lancer seems to have made his point."

"I hear he's going around to every class and giving 'The Speech'," Sam informed.

"What speech?" they heard a nasal voice ask. Danny turned around to see Dash sauntering up to them.

Sam and Tucker gave Danny the usual bewildered stare they did whenever Dash showed signs of friendliness, but it lacked the typical shock they usually held. "The speech about how we won't graduate and ruin our lives if we get a single 'F'. I think our class put him in a bad mood for the entire day." Sam told him.

"It was scary," Tucker commented.

"It was the most terrifying thing I've ever seen," Sam agreed, "and I hang out with Danny." Her eyes widened when she realized the slip. Danny looked furiously at her. Dash looked nonplussed, but decided it was just a joke between friends.

"Isn't that kind of obvious?" Dash asked, standing right next to Danny, their arms almost brushing. "We've only known how the school system works since the first grade."

"Don't tell me _you've_ been studying," Tucker blurted, then quickly slapped a hand over his mouth.

"As a matter of fact, I have," Dash said smoothly.

"You have?" Danny and Sam couldn't stop themselves from saying with some surprise.

"Of course," Dash replied. "You don't think eleven years of near failures would teach me to get a head start at the final stretch? I've been studying for, like, a month already."

The three friends blinked. Who'd have thought Dash Baxter would have better studying habits than practically anyone else in school? Dash merely shrugged, then made his way to the cafeteria.

The lectures Lancer had graced each and every class he attended that day left the students he taught weak and vulnerable, and the rest of the teachers, to their delight, used this window of opportunity to drive their own lessons home. Never had they had such malleable minds of seniors actually willing to learn, if only out of fear of what might happen to their futures if they didn't rather than an actual want to do so. For the first time since he was in grade school, Danny found every student in class taking down notes vigorously. Of course, the attention spans of teenagers were notoriously short; Danny gave this new outlook on life a shelf life of one week.

After school, Danny went down to the football field to meet up with Dash and discuss what they were going to do about their current situation, given that their tradition of meeting up at his house was no longer a viable option. He found, to some surprise, several of the jocks sitting around in a circle on the grass looking bored. Dash was spread against the bleachers lazily tossing a football from one hand to the other.

"This is practice?" he voiced when he got close. Dash opened his eyes and squinted to block out the glare of the sun.

"Hey," he greeted, pulling himself to sit upright. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk," Danny said. "I didn't think you'd be so available though."

Dash shrugged. "The team's depressed. I would send them home but Coach wants us to put in the time. No point now without Kwan around though."

"As team captain, isn't it your job to boost morale?" Danny questioned, taking a seat next to Dash.

"Hey, he was my best friend," Dash said casually. "I'm even more depressed than they are!"

The two of them chuckled. Danny noticed a couple of the guys glancing at them, but they were used to the sight of Dash and Danny hanging out together by this point that they didn't raise questions. "You wanna go visit afterwards?" Dash offered. Danny nodded. He hadn't really been to see Kwan since he had brought him to the hospital. He kept meaning to, but had never found the will to do it; it was just too hard. But with Dash along, it didn't seem like such an intimidating prospect. "Do you go often?"

"Probably not as often as I should."

"How often should you?"

"Every day, I suppose," Dash shrugged, now twirling the pigskin between his palms in front of him. "His parents are there every day, after work."

Danny nodded. He still didn't know Kwan's family name, but he didn't dare ask.

"So what are you going to do now?" Dash nodded at him. "Just hang around?"

"Well," Danny shifted, "I was thinking that maybe I would do something. I have to get out of the house before the Guys in White make me explode. Maybe joining a club _would_ help. I was thinking of taking up Connor's suggestion for writing for the school paper."

"That's good," Dash said quietly, not taking his eyes off Danny. "That way you can spend some time there, I can work on practice, then we can figure out where to hang afterwards." Danny nodded. "So are you going there now?"

"Yeah – I was just coming to tell you, and see if we had any plans since we can't meet at my house anymore," Danny lowered his voice, self-consciously checking to see if any of Dash's teammates heard him. They might have been hanging out more now, but he was pretty sure none of them had any clue as to how much time Dash and Danny had really spent together in the past couple of months.

"I'll see you at four thirty then," Dash followed Danny's line of sight to land on the circle of jocks who were looking at them a bit too curiously. He realized that they were probably sitting a bit closer than necessary. Danny got to his feet and nodded and awkwardly waved goodbye as he made his way back to the school.

"Alright, team," Dash barked getting to his feet as well, "let's practice some drills!"

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The school newspaper met in the school's computer lab after school, Danny had been informed when he went to the administration office to enquire about it, so he made his way to the room and knocked on the door before opening it to find a group of people typing furiously at their stations and hovering over them…

"Mister Lancer?" Danny froze. Mr. Lancer turned around to gaze at him coldly.

"Yes, Daniel, may I help you with something?"

"Uh," Danny felt extremely self-conscious now, the burden of the bald man's earlier admonition weighing itself upon his shoulders. "I – I came to join the school paper."

"I beg your pardon?" Mr. Lancer said smoothly.

Danny blushed, noticing that all eyes were upon him now and that the clacking sound of fingers hitting the keyboard had stopped. "I said … I said I came to join the paper," he muttered, feeling a bit stupid.

Mr. Lancer heaved a sigh. "Tell me, Daniel, is there anything that goes through that thick skull of yours?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you not pay attention to a single word of my lecture this morning?" Lancer rephrased. "I was under the impression that, despite my failed attempts to capture my students interest with my teachings, I had at least managed to get through to you that your very futures were in jeopardy if you didn't put in some serious work for your upcoming exams."

"You did," Danny said earnestly. "I've seen a whole bunch of students around the school studying their as— brains out."

"Mm-hmm – and tell me, were you a part of this group of students studying their brains out?"

"I – well…"

"Have you spent _any_ time today studying for your finals, Mister Fenton?"

"Yes," Danny said defiantly, standing up straight. "I did it during free period like you said."

"And did you also hear me say that you should go home and double your efforts?" Lancer placed his hands behind his back.

"I—" Danny deflated. "Yes."

"In that case, tell me, Mister Fenton, _why_ are you not at home studying?"

"I just … I wanted to join the school paper, sir," Danny said meekly. "Mister Connor told me to," he added.

"I believe Mister Connor suggested that you do it in February, as a means to improve your college applications," Mr. Lancer stated. "It is now April, Mister Fenton. There is little point in joining _any_ club this school offers. You have missed any opportunity in joining the yearbook committee, all articles to be featured in editions of the paper in the coming weeks have already been determined and assigned to established and reputable members of the paper, and _furthermore_," his eyes flashed, "the deadline for rolling admissions is in a few weeks. I would be extremely worried if I had not yet submitted my applications to enter freshman year."

Danny gaped. He had not bothered to keep any track of when schools would require him to send in his application by. He hadn't even filled out a single one!

Mr. Lancer turned his back and faced the students who hastily returned their attention back to their monitors and began clacking away at their keyboards again. "Go home, Mister Fenton. Study. There will be little extracurricular activities can do to bolster your applications without anything _to_ bolster."

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"I've ruined my life," Danny moaned, setting his head against the wheel of his car.

"You have not," Dash said in an annoyed tone. "Alright, so the school paper thing isn't going to work out. Big deal. There are tons of people who get into college without doing a single thing in high school. If they accept burnouts, why not you?"

Contrary to the flippant remark he had received this morning that made him smile, this one only wanted to make Danny bury his head in the ground. "It's nice to know I'm one step above potheads on the social scale," he grumbled, pulling his head back up and starting the ignition. Dash placed a comforting arm on his shoulder which Danny shrugged off.

They arrived at the hospital, driving down the underground visitors' bay and easily finding a place to park. Together they walked to the lift and rode up to the ground floor where they signed their names in the log book. Visitors were only allowed until 6 PM for non-family members, so they only had a little over an hour to go, though Danny doubted that he would be staying that long. If he wanted to save his future, he needed to get back home as soon as possible.

Danny allowed Dash to lead the way to Kwan's room; he hadn't bothered to ask, figuring that since Dash had been coming over more often than him, he would know where the hospital had placed him anyway. The last time Danny had seen the Asian boy, a horde of nurses and doctors had rushed him off on a gurney through double doors he was not allowed to enter.

Kwan was lying peacefully on a bed, dressed in a gown and hooked up to various different machines and an IV drip. A curtain separated him from another patient who was also asleep. The harsh lights of the room made him appear even more pale than he already was.

"The doctors don't know what's wrong with him," Dash said in a hushed tone. "They ran some brain scans, but there doesn't seem to be any trauma they can find. It's like he's just … sleeping."

"Where are his parents?" Danny whispered.

"They can only visit him after they're done with work," Dash informed. "They usually arrive around six or after." The jock drew a seat and clutched his friend's hand gently. It was a strange sight for Danny to see, Dash displaying affection for someone other than him, someone male. He knew the boys had been great friends, and by Dash's own admission, had been more for a period of time, but it was still quite disconcerting. Danny dragged another chair, wincing at the sound it made as its legs scraped against the floor before he decided to lift it and set it down next to his boyfriend, and sat down.

"I hope he comes out of it," Dash sighed. "I don't know what's going to happen if he doesn't. I can't imagine graduating without him in the seats too." The two of them sat there solemnly, staring at the unmoving body that lay in front of them. Danny's hand moved surreptitiously to grasp Dash's, causing the blond boy to look over at him. Danny offered him a small smile, which Dash returned, squeezing Danny's hand, before turning his head back to watch his friend sadly.

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Author's Note: I have to say, I'm extremely pleased with the way this chapter turned out. I didn't think I would end it at this point, but I think it shows a rare somber emotion that I did not expect to come out, and I thought it would be a great point to leave off. I'm also particularly happy with the way Lancer turned out in this chapter. Please review, I would love to hear what you all think. I look forward to each and every one of your comments. Thank you.


	27. Faithfully So

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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"Danny, we're doing this for your own good," Maddie said that night when Jack passed him the plate that he had just dried to be put away. Too busy glaring at his parents to pay attention, he blindly reached out to place the plate onto the rack it typically hung from only to completely miss it, causing it to shatter into a dozen different shards on the floor.

"Jack, switch," Maddie sighed. Usually she was wary about having her husband be in charge of putting away the dishes, him being the klutziest member of the family, but Danny was obviously in no mood to do the job properly tonight and she did not want to end up using paper plates for the rest of the week. Jack dutifully switched places with Danny, silently handing him the dishrag, and Danny moved to stand between the two of them.

Maddie tossed away the remains left on the next plate before soaking it under the tap and scrubbing it clean, then handed it to Danny who dried it sloppily before handing it to Jack. "It's not fair," he complained. "I can take care of myself. Wasn't I there when you installed the emergency system? Aren't you the ones who are always trying to get us involved in all this ghost-hunting stuff so we learn how to protect ourselves? Wasn't _I_ the one to save _you_ when those ghosts abducted all the parents into their ship?"

There was a _crash_ as another plate ended up in pieces on the linoleum. "Oops," Jack said sheepishly. Maddie pulled a broom and a dustpan out of a nearby closet and quickly swept the shards up and deposited them into the garbage can. Danny took this as his cue to leave. "I am not going anywhere," he declared before marching upstairs. His parents didn't try to stop him.

In his room, Danny pressed his cellphone against his ear while peering out the window, once again watching the plain white van parked outside. Sam was currently on the other end of the line while Tucker was sending them both instant messages online as Danny's phone was unable to support three-way calls. "Just go down and get the cordless," Sam advised. "Tucker keeps complaining that you're ignoring his messages."

"I can't," Danny said, pulling the curtain back to stare at the scene outside again after having checked Tucker's messages. "My parents will try to talk me into leaving again, and I'm not sure I have what it takes to say no a second time." There was a pause when neither of them could think of anything to say. Danny heard the signature sound of his computer alerting him of a new message, but didn't bother to check it. The frown on his face deepened.

"I need to get in there," he said more to himself than to Sam.

"In where?" Sam questioned.

"The van. I need to see what those guys are up to," Danny clarified.

"You're gonna go ghost and sneak in?" she sounded excited at the prospect of such an adventure.

"It's the only way," Danny said resolutely. "I can't even begin to fight against them if I don't know what they might have on me. Who knows, maybe they don't have anything at all." He did not think this was very plausible, but he had been doing his best to keep a low profile, hadn't he? He hadn't changed into Danny Phantom since that disastrous conference with the media in the principal's office. Danny let the curtain fall and made his way to the computer finally taking a seat, determined not to look out that window again for the rest of the night. He clicked on the window containing Tucker's messages, cracking a smile as he read through his friend's rant about how hard he sucked right now.

_Sorry, Tuck_, he typed in. _Got a little caught up with the whole government spying on my family right under our noses thing_.

_That's no excuse,_ the other boy replied. _Man, this whomps bad. We are so sticking to three-way calls next time. Sam's not telling me anything, and I know you haven't been reading my messages._

_Sorry_, Danny typed in again.

Sam was still on the line. "So what's the plan?" she prompted.

"No plan yet," Danny informed. "I'm still trying to figure this whole thing out in my head. I'll let you know what I come up with at school – but it's going to happen tomorrow. I can't take another day of this."

They said their goodbyes and hung up and Danny filled Tucker in on what he and Sam had discussed before bidding goodbye to him as well and shutting his computer off.

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Danny got up extra-early the next morning specifically so that he could ensure not running into his parents in the kitchen getting ready for the day. With the extra time, he found himself at the Nasty Burger sipping on a medium-sized Coke, and taking in the night sky with sleepy eyes.

As summer started to approach, there would be longer days and fewer chances to watch the sun rise, but there were occasions the students of East High had woken up in the morning for school only to find that the moon and the stars were hanging on a bit longer than usual. Today, Danny had woken up early enough to catch a belated sunrise, and he had to admit, out of all the things that had happened in his life recently, this was the best distraction he'd had yet.

It was in this type of atmosphere, when being the only customer inside the diner offered a kind of silence and solitude, and the twinkling sky moved from black to a tint of dark blue brought on by the first signs of the oncoming sun offered a kind of peace that would not be achievable by anything else, that Danny felt the burden his wallowing brought him lift slightly off his shoulders enough to admit how scared he was for the future. Not in the whiny, pathetic way he had expressed to Dash yesterday in the car, but this truly, greatly _terrorizing_ fear that drove any means of explaining how he felt to anyone out of his head.

He knew he should have been to see Mr. Connor sooner; he knew he should have been to see Mr. Connor more often; he knew he should have taken Mr. Connor's advice when it came. What had he been thinking, going out for an extracurricular this late in the school year? If he had just gone to gain permission to enter some clubs right after his first meeting with the guidance counselor, he could have at least played off the move as wanting to do something more constructive for his very last semester in high school.

Well, it didn't look like it was going to be his _very_ last semester in high school. The way things were going, he was due to attend quite a few more terms in Casper High soon enough.

He buried his head in his hands. He still had a chance. That's what Lancer was trying to tell them yesterday, wasn't it? They all still had a chance. He wouldn't have told Danny to go home and study if he didn't think it was going to do him any good.

The exams were worth fifty percent of the final grade. It left quite a big margin, probably, Danny's lip quirked sardonically, to help out people like him, slackers who were at the end of their rope. All he needed to do was break into sixty percent for all of his classes and he would be allowed to graduate. Quite a bit of the marks had already been awarded; Danny didn't know how much he had scored so far, but it couldn't have been too bad – daily homework didn't really count for anything, it was mostly projects and presentations that carried points, and Danny had always done fairly well on those. He had had quite a bit of lectures from teachers over the course of the year telling him to straighten up and that he would have to work harder to get grades worth having, but all Danny cared about was avoiding an F, rather than achieving the As and Bs his teachers pressured him to – and anyway, he'd always had them on his case, even, and he had always fared out okay in the end; true, they were a bit more stern these days, but that was only because it was his senior year.

He groaned quietly. Most students resolved to make the most of their senior year, regardless of how they were doing academically. Him – he had been suffering from a fatal case of burnout syndrome ever since he was a sophomore. Once that idealistic veil he'd had as a freshman had been pulled away from his eyes, he had stopped caring about school. He did the work as best he could, but never put in the same amount of vigor he once did; had stopped trying to make new friends because he'd pretty much sealed his fate as a loser for good the previous year; had stopped actively pursuing girls, giving up on Paulina as being nothing more than an unreachable fantasy, calling Valerie for a few odd dates but never enough for either of them to do more than unofficially considering themselves an item, and had forgone the possibility of being something more to Sam for the comfortable position of remaining close friends; and now this stagnant pause he'd placed upon his life was being forced to move, and he was beginning to see that he hadn't done enough to help it along. High school was a cocoon, and instead of coming out a butterfly, confident and developed, he'd emerged an ugly green slug still.

If he worked now, he had the chance of attending Amity U at the very best. The thought always wanted to make him scream and cry and bang his fists like a spoilt child being denied a treat. He could _not_ stay in Amity Park. He could not. If he did, the ghost part of him would consume his life. He'd made the promise to protect this city as best he could, that he was the one responsible for the ghosts in this town – but once high school ended, he was off-duty! It was not something he had really acknowledged, let alone expressed outwardly, but he had sort of been taking for granted the fact that he would go off to college, live in a town different from the one he'd grown up in, away from his parents, and live a normal life. It wasn't that he'd given himself a time limit and a clock to punch out with, really; it was more of the fact that he hadn't truly imagined his ghost half being a part of his future. In the back of his mind, he knew it would always be a part of him, and he hadn't really spent time on what would happen to Amity Park once he went off to live his own life elsewhere; the fact that ghost attacks had seemed to be slowing down before this whole fiasco with the Plasmius soul had started gave him even less reason to think of what would happen once he left town.

This was perhaps why he ha never given much thought to his future at all. All his life he had seen it as a something that lay indistant horizon; the thought of growing up and leaving home had always been something that he knew _would_ happen, but not happen now. Adulthood had crept up on him and left him no time to prepare himself. He'd put off looking to his future so much because he hadn't wanted to see the glaring incongruity between the way he pictured his life and the way he was living it.

All he could do now was hope for the best. No – Mr. Lancer's words rang in his head. _Study_. It was his last hope, and he was going to make the best of it. There was still possibility of creating something better for himself. He raised his head away from his hands.

He had missed the sunrise.

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For what was probably only the second time of his life, Danny was in school early. He found a parking spot easily and was in class before the janitor had turned all the lights on. He spent the time mulling over his situation, breaking off his train of thought every once in a while to chastise himself for, even now, wasting time better used for studying.

Unexpectedly, Sam and Tucker were the next two students to enter the class. Danny stared at them with wide eyes, and they took the desks on either side of him when they caught sight of him. "Hey!" Sam chirped. Tucker grunted sourly.

"What are you guys doing here so early?" Danny asked.

"We couldn't really sleep, so I called Tucker and we decided to take an early morning stroll to school," Sam told him.

Tucker snorted. "Speak for yourself, lady. I was sleeping just fine until you woke me up and told me to come over to your place."

Sam didn't bother replying. She fixed Danny with a piercing stare and asked, "So, have you come up with anything yet? Tuck and I are ready to do whatever."

"Within reason," Tucker added nervously. "Um, this is the government we're dealing with, so let's try to keep the lawbreaking to a minimum?"

"Still no plans, guys," Danny admitted. "I've got a lot on my mind; I'm not really sure what we're dealing with here. I don't want to just go ghost and swoop in, but right now, that's all I've got."

"Then let's do it," Sam decided. "The most straightforward plan is always the best one. They can't keep track you if you're invisible and intangible."

Danny glared. "I'm pretty sure they've got things to alert them if that happens, Sam," he said sarcastically. "It'd be a pretty sad prospect if they're hunting ghosts and don't even ghost-proof their van, don't you think?"

"These are the Guys in White. They're goons. The first rime you ever got tangled up with them, you were at higher risk from your dad!"

"And they've been progressively growing meaner and deadlier ever since." Danny reminded them. "We're not fourteen anymore, Sam. We don't have the luxury of assuming we're one step ahead because we know more about ghosts than the government does. Since the Guys in White were recognized as a credible department, they've gained more money, more technology, more support, and more information on how ghosts – and their number one target – work.

"We can't just jump into this. There's too much to lose … and I've been losing quite a lot," Danny sighed. Sam and Tucker shared a curious glance at his dark tone.

Sam got to her feet. "Well, let us know if you come up with anything," she said somewhat hesitantly. "I'm going to see if they've started serving coffee in the cafeteria yet. See you later…"

And she and Tucker quickly exited the room. Danny returned to silent moping, not really caring that he'd been left alone.

The sun was properly up now and the school buses were pulling up, dropping off kids who had been signed on to the service. Mostly they were freshmen and sophomores, but also harbored juniors and seniors who did not possess a car or any other means of arriving to school aside from walking. The school began to come alive with the constant buzzing of the students faintly audible through the door and the windows of the classroom Danny was sitting in.

Paulina and two of her fellow cheerleaders who had found themselves on the prom committee sauntered in. Paulina raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Danny as if questioning why he was in homeroom so early, but then turned her attention back to the other two girls excitedly offering to show her around the gym and point out how it was going to look for the prom to her. Paulina wasn't on the committee herself, not wanting to damage her chances of being elected Prom Queen but had friends in very high places, it appeared, that her influence on the event would still be felt anyway.

The group of girls set their books and tossed their leather bags that looked so small Danny hardly expected them to be able to hold more than a few items of makeup a regular handbag would rather than books, and strutted right out again to head to the gymnasium, the two satellites now chattering eagerly about color schemes.

Danny felt a plunge of sorrow. Could he have gotten on the prom committee? Might he have ever found that little reservoir of school spirit in him to make some sort of effort on planning a school event? He didn't even know if boys were allowed on the prom committee – that's how much effort he had taken with his high school career.

Soon enough the room began to fill-up with early-birds, then the teacher entered and after the morning bell rang the final few who had been lingering outside or cut it too close arriving to school that morning took their seats and roll call began.

Danny felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out, sparing a glance at the teacher, who was getting some of her marking done during the free time. They weren't allowed to use cellphones in school, but it was homeroom, and the teacher was pretty cool about it so long as one did not make the signs too obvious.

_You wanna visit Kwan again after school?_ It was Dash.

Danny bit his lip. He did not want to distract himself from his mission, but it was obvious Dash wanted his company on these visits, and how could he say no considering he was the reason Kwan was stuck in a coma in the first place?

_You got practice?_

_Yeah_, Dash messaged back quickly. _But we can go after._

_I'll see you after then._

It was probably best to set a time limit anyway; he didn't think it would take him one and half hours to peek into the van and see what he was working against, but it still helped to know that he had other commitments right afterwards.

Since his chances of joining any after-school activity had been shot down, Danny didn't see any reason to hang around after the final bell rang at three. During lunch, he, Sam and Tucker had decided that they would drive back to the Fenton house, park around the corner rather than Danny's usual spot – Danny still wasn't too thrilled with the idea that the Guys in White had occupied the space right behind where he parked his car – so as not to arouse suspicion from the agents inside the vehicle, and Danny would then turn intangible with Sam and Tucker hanging on and together they would break into the van and investigate. Danny had tried to object to the other two's involvement, but they had been firm. He was not to do this by himself.

They didn't waste any time. As soon as school had let out for the day, the three friends jumped into Danny's car and set the plan in motion. Having two other people turn intangible required them to latch on to Danny, which meant that his hands would not be free to use during their escapade, so Sam and Tucker would have to act as his limbs.

FentonWorks was the last building of the block, so by parking in the corner, Danny could ensure that the Guys in White wouldn't see them coming. However, making his way to the parked van with Sam's and Tucker's hands in his own, he paused suddenly seeing something he didn't expect. A dark blue Mercedes came to an abrupt halt right in front of the Fenton residence; Danny tightened his grip on Sam's and Tucker's wrists, nodding at the new car. Quickly, he pulled them forward and they darted through the wall of the house to enter inside, and peeked out the window to see who this new arrival was. Letting go of his friends, Danny crouched down, not wanting to give away his position and crawled to the nearest window.

"Oh my God," he mumbled when he caught sight of the bright, flowing hair. Sam and Tucker joined him by the window, but he jumped to his feet and rushed to the door, flinging it open.

"Jazz!"

"Danny!" his sister cried, leaping to pull him into a bone-crushing hug.

"What – what are you—" he broke off when he caught sight of the man smiling gently at him behind his sister's frame. "Uh…?"

Jazz pulled away, glancing behind her before turning back to her brother. "Oh – Danny, this is my friend, Jasper Hedley – Jasper, my brother, Danny."

"It's nice to meet you," the man said politely, stepping forward and extending his arm for a handshake. Danny took it warily and let go soon after. He turned curious eyes on his sister, but she ushered him along to the car, forcing him to help with the bags. She traded hugs with Sam and the two girls went back inside chattering a mile a minute while Danny, Tucker and Jasper struggled with the massive amount of suitcases.

"So … who are you?" Danny grunted, attempting to pull the luggage along into the house.

"Oh, I'm a friend of Jazz's from college," Jasper replied, picking up what Danny's hands were too full to accommodate. "She invited me."

"I didn't know my sister was dating anybody," Danny replied.

"Oh, we're not dating," Jasper said easily. He closed the door behind Danny and himself, and then unexpectedly went to have peek through the drawn curtains.

They found Sam and Jazz in the kitchen stirring steaming cups of coffee. The door slammed shut and Tucker stormed in carrying one last suitcase in his arms which he set down none too gracefully. "Thanks for shutting the door on me, guys," he fumed.

"Oops," Danny snickered. He turned back to Jazz who was watching him with a strange glint in her eye. "What are you doing here?" he questioned. "I thought your semester didn't end for two weeks."

"I'm going to go back for my finals, but since I've handed in all my assignments, I thought I'd drop in for an early visit," Jazz answered.

"Yeah, you should have seen her," Jasper chuckled. "She was holed up in the library like a maniac for the past week getting them done. I had to sneak in lunch for her in fear that she'd starve herself in the process."

"I can't get anything done in my dorm with Blaire blasting that music all the time," Jazz complained. "Next semester, I'm getting an apartment; I've had it with that girl."

"So that's why you're here? To ask Mom and Dad for money?" Danny raised his eyebrows.

"Sort of," Jazz allowed. "I've already got a job lined up, so I'll have most of the money by fall; I just need to make sure that I can count on them to give me some in case I don't have the right amount by then."

"You know they will," Danny pulled up a chair. "Why else did you come?"

Jazz took a sip of hr coffee, somehow making it seem more dignified than Danny ever could. "Well," she began slowly, "I couldn't very well let the government investigate my family and not do anything about it, could I?"

Danny froze. "How did you know they were watching us?"

"I have my sources," Jazz said mysteriously. Danny's eyes automatically turned to catch Sam's, whose own eyes widened at the silent accusation.

"Oh, it's not either of these two," Jazz chided. "You should know by now they never tell me anything. I found out from Dash."

"Dash?" Danny yelped.

"Why would Dash tell you?" Tucker quirked his eyebrow.

"We've been keeping in contact ever since I tutored him a few years ago," Jazz informed. "I've been letting him know about Amity U because he's not sure where he intends to go."

Danny sat back in his seat in surprise. Why on earth would Dash still be talking to Jazz, especially about something like this? "Excuse me," he muttered, pulling out his cellphone.

"_You've been talking to _Jazz?_"_ Danny roared as soon as Dash answered.

There was a pause on the other end, and then Dash replied uncertainly, "Danny?"

"Yes, it's Danny, you ignorant lumberjack!" Danny yelled, pacing the floor of his room. "Why the hell did you tell Jazz the government is spying on us?"

"I thought she would know!" Dash defended. "Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't told her yourself."

"Why would _I_ tell her?" Danny snapped. "What could she do about it?"

"Jazz does a lot," Dash said off-handedly. "She started rattling off a list of what she was going to do to those guys as soon as she got her hands on them."

Danny pulled at his hair in frustration. "So?" His voice lowered. "Do you also tell her that you want to fuck her baby brother into the mattress?"

He could almost see Dash blushing. "Look," he said just as quietly, "it just slipped out, okay? I didn't realize none of you had clued her in."

"Well, she's here now, and I have no idea what she's going to do—"

"Then ask her! She's not going to lie to you."

"Ugh," Danny groaned, but knew that Dash was right. Jazz never made it a point to lie, especially not to him. "I can't talk to you right now. I'll call you later." He snapped the phone shut without saying goodbye then stalked back down to the kitchen. Sam, Tucker, Jazz and Jasper were waiting for him expectantly. Danny huffed and slipped back into his seat ungracefully.

"So what have you got planned?"

"I'm glad you asked," Jazz beamed. "Jasper here is a law student. He's going to help us."

Danny snorted, glancing at Jasper again, who was trying to make himself seem small. "What can he do that a real lawyer can't?"

"Real lawyers aren't going to touch you," Jazz pointed out. "From what I've gathered, the Guys in White came in with full orders to turn this in to a matter of national security, and they've got the mayor's permission to keep the family under surveillance. Jasper, however, isn't bound by the same laws practicing lawyers are, since he's still a student. He won't be able to bring this thing to court, but he can sure raise one hell of a ruckus."

Jasper beamed before catching Danny's dark look again.

"If he manages it, we'll have these guys off our tail, so you might as well live with it, Danny," Jazz scolded. "He's going to be staying here for the week, and it'll be a lot more pleasant if you learn to accommodate. We'll need all the help we can get swinging Mom and Dad – well, Mom anyway; I'm sure Dad will be all for it."

"Who's going to be persuaded to a law _student_?" Danny persisted.

"The same people who are persuaded by the common man," Jazz told him. "America is built on a history of protests and civil disobedience. I wouldn't have come here if I didn't think we stood a chance."

"Not to rain on your parade, Jazz, but this isn't the '70s," Sam reminded. "Sit-ins and picket lines died out a long time ago."

Jazz smiled confidently, raising the cup to her lips. "If that's what you think, Sam, you clearly have no idea what's going on in Washington."

They sat in silence after that. Jazz finished off her coffee, and said to Jasper, "Why don't you set up in Danny's room. You can have a shower; I know you always feel grubby after a road trip."

Danny's eyes widened and he gave Jazz a warning look, which she waved off. "Danny and Tucker will bring your bags up while you're bathing," she told Jasper. Jasper nodded and took his leave.

"Jazz!" Danny whined. "I've got a lot of important stuff in there. A lot of _important_ stuff."

"Jasper won't snoop," Jazz said airily.

"He's studying to become a lawyer!" Danny cried indignantly.

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Jasper! My brother's being a paranoid freak; promise you won't snoop!"

"I won't snoop!" Jasper's voice called from upstairs. She turned to Danny as if that settled the matter. So, grumbling, Danny and Tucker were left to bring up his luggage.

"I don't trust this guy," Danny muttered to Tucker when were done. Sneaking a glance at the door to make sure Jasper wouldn't burst through any time soon, he turned his hand intangible to waver through the outside and rummaged through its contents. He felt nothing but the fabric of clothes and pulled it out feeling mildly disappointed. He did this again, rifling through the second bag.

"What kind of guy brings in two suitcases for a week-long stay?" Tucker snorted.

"I feel papers," Danny informed. "And more clothes." He pulled his hand out again turning it visible once more. "What do you think he might have on those?"

Tucker shrugged. "I doubt it could be anything incriminating. He doesn't even know you."

"I guess," Danny shrugged. "Come on – help me clear this place out of anything that might make him suspicious.

They hastily went through Danny's cabinets and drawers, drawing out various weapons and other incriminating paraphernalia Jasper might come across. Danny ordered Tucker to store the stuff temporarily in Jazz's room to be retrieved at a safer time. Tucker had only just ducked out when the bathroom door opened to reveal Jasper through a cloud of steam.

"Oh, that felt good," he expressed to Danny, running a hand through his wet hair.

Danny nodded distractedly, but was saved from having to answer when his cellphone started ringing.

"You ready?" Dash's voice sounded through the speaker. "I'll be at your place in five."

"Okay," Danny said quickly. "I'll see you when you get here."

He hung up and smiled apologetically at Jasper before making his way out. Sam and Tucker were waiting for him in the living room.

"We'll have to put this off for another day," he told them. "Dash is coming over to take me to the hospital."

"Why?" Sam questioned.

"We're visiting Kwan," Danny told her. "I kind of feel like it's my responsibility to. You can come if you want."

Tucker shrugged. "Beats hanging here when you're not going to be around."

So when Dash let out a loud beep, he was surprised to find Danny escorted by his two friends, but didn't question it. "Sam and Tucker wanted to say hi to Kwan," Danny told him anyway. Dash nodded stoically, and peeled away.

They didn't talk through the ride to Amity General. Danny was still angry at Dash for having been in contact with Jazz all this time, and couldn't help wondering what else the jock might have told her; did she know that they'd been hanging together because the school thought him certifiable? It would be the only reason she didn't seem surprised that Dash knew what was going on with their family. Dash apparently still thought he was in the right and that Danny had no reason for yelling at him for the intrusion. The tension in the car was palpable.

Once again they stood above Kwan's prone form on the bed. Dash looked the most grief-stricken out of the lot of them, but Sam and Tucker were obviously caught off-guard by how sobering the sight of their fallen fellow student would be, and Danny noted that their eyes held some genuine remorse for him too.

Inspired by a sudden idea that came to him, he turned to Dash and asked, "Hey, could you go get me some ice chips?"

Dash stared at him. Danny shrugged apologetically. "I need something to much on."

Dash lingered a moment longer, as if unsure whether or not to comply, but drifted off to find him a cup. Sam and Tucker gazed at him curiously.

"Watch the door," Danny instructed. "I'm only going to be a moment." With that, he turned himself intangible and dived headfirst into Kwan's body.

Inside the foreign body, Danny heard the dull throb of Kwan's heart and other organs working in unison. Kwan's eyes were closed so Danny found himself ensconced in darkness. The sounds from the outside world were present but muted, almost as they would be were he underwater; but he didn't sense anything unusual, no presence of a spirit as he thought he would find. Satisfied by his venture, he raised himself up to slip out of the other boy's body.

Sam and Tucker were still alone, and they raised their eyebrows to ask 'What was that about?'

"I was trying to find any sign of Tyrant," he answered. "There were none. I guess the ghost really has left." Unlike the time he and Tucker had shared Paulina's body from Tucker's brief career as a half-ghost, Danny felt nothing of a second ghost inhabiting the body.

The door swung open and Dash strode in with a cup filled to the brim with ice chips, which he shoved unceremoniously into Danny's hands. Thanking him with a small smile, Danny was about to reach in for one when another hand fell on top of his and clutched his wrist rather painfully. Shocked, Danny dropped the cup and turned to find Kwan's frightened and confused eyes staring back at him.

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Author's Note: Happy new year, everyone! May 2008 be a great year for all.

Thank you so much for all of your reviews in the past chapter, I'm glad to see so many were pleased with the outcome as I was. I've had half of this chapter written out since December, but decided against finishing it up and posting it during the few days transitioning between all our Christmas parties to New Year celebrations. A new year for new characters and introduction to one very beloved canon character. I'm quite pleased with how Jazz turned out; originally I had her involved with the plan to sneak in to the van parked outside the Fentons' home, but decided to save that for a later chapter to help with the flow of the story. Please leave your reviews, I'd love to read your thoughts on this chapter. Thank you.


	28. Now Conscious

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

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The news spread far and wide the next day that Kwan had finally woken up. It had flashed faster through the grapevine than any other piece of gossip in recent memory, and on his way to second period, Danny found the school abuzz with the news of what had happened at the hospital. Of course, this piece of news brought back to life many other bits of news surrounding the event that had died out. Students were once again questioning what exactly had happened, why Danny Phantom had attacked a harmless student from the school he seemed to enjoy appearing in so much, what connection did Danny Fenton have to this whole mystery – why had he, Danny, been the one to admit Kwan into the hospital in the first place, and what a strange coincidence it was that he just happened to be there when Kwan had woken up. This also brought up another issue Danny had up to this point failed to hear the students whispering about: why exactly were Dash Baxter and Danny Fenton spending so much time together?

Danny spent the whole day ignoring the innumerable amount of eyes that seemed to swivel to him the entire day as best he could. For the most part, he did this quite well, having his own issues to contemplate. Now that Kwan was awake, Danny found his mind going back to that day when Walker had banded together all the ghosts that claimed to hate the warden for an organized strike against him; he found himself startled, to be perfectly honest, that he hadn't devoted more time to pondering the issue in the past week. This train of thought then led to the image of Skulker spying on him the day that he had sucked cock for the first time, and Danny wondered exactly what the supernatural hunter was up to, and whether he was still working together with Walker. There had been a suspiciously abrupt end to the ghost attacks ever since he had barely escaped with his life from the mysterious rock with the inscription he had not bothered to think about once. Aside from all this, Danny still had yet to infiltrate the white van parked outside his house. And on top of all that, he was also trying to push all these thoughts out of his head so that he could study for the upcoming exams.

He banged his fist against the table. "This is hopeless!" he gritted out, only to be promptly shushed by the irritated librarian.

"You're just freaking out, Danny, you have to work through it," Sam said from her spot across the table, eyes still focused on her Chemistry textbook. "Everyone's going through it. Josie Brauhner had a complete meltdown in the middle of American Literature today."

Danny snorted. "What's so hard about that? Your 'textbook' is a collection of short stories we've probably heard since we were five."

"I'll have you know Literature is one of the hardest courses in the high school curriculum," Sam said casually, still not pulling away from the words printed on the page in front of her.

Danny didn't push the point, though the frustration building up in him called for some sort of release. How was he expected to get through all these chapters in little more than three weeks? "I wish _I_ had been in a coma," he grumbled. "Did you know the school's offering Kwan straight A's for the semester? I heard two of the teachers talking about it in the hall."

"It's not like they can expect him to get through finals after all this," Sam replied. "Especially considering that he's going to remain in the hospital under observation for a few more days."

After the group of them had snapped out of their stunned daze upon finding Kwan awake, Dash had gone to find a doctor, who had quickly shoved all of them out of the room to conduct tests. Within fifteen minutes she had come to them again and pronounced Kwan's recovery a miracle, citing no apparent trauma – except for one little detail: Kwan didn't seem to remember anything that had happened for the past two months. "Amnesia is not an uncommon side-effect of comatose patients just regaining consciousness," the doctor had told them cheerfully, "but aside from that, he seems to be just fine. We'll have to run more tests in the coming days to see how he's doing and how his condition is developing, of course, but he doesn't even seem to be slurring or even very confused, which is a very good sign."

Kwan's parents had been alerted at once and had dropped everything to join them. It had been a happy occasion with much crying and blubbering from Dash and Kwan's mother, and Danny had noticed the boy's father tearing up too as he clapped his son's shoulder before the teenagers were still forcibly ejected out of the room by a stern nurse when visiting hours came to an end.

Danny tried to absorb the words mutely for a few seconds before he started speaking again. "So since this whole thing with Kwan's been put to rest, I'm thinking we should break into the van today," he said quietly.

"I'm ready when you are," Sam told him. "But don't you think you should still check up on Kwan even now that he's awake? I mean, he's a part of this now."

"Why?" Danny questioned. "I already found Tyrant wasn't there when I went in; Kwan doesn't remember anything past January—"

"Kwan could be lying," Sam said. "Don't you think you ought to make sure? And don't you think it's a little strange that the ghost that's been possessing him for the past two months is just gone?"

"People who are possessed by ghosts never remember the experience," Danny defended. "And Tyrant could have just left, Kwan's been in a coma for like a week, maybe he found it boring—"

"People who have been possessed generally remember some vestiges of it," Sam reminded him. "It's all a blur but there are some details that stick to the mind, it's your responsibility to find out what he remembers, and not just because you're Danny Phantom—"

"_Will you shut up?"_ Danny hissed, eyes darting side-to-side to catch anyone listening in on their increasingly loud conversation. No one was jumping to their feet proclaiming Danny to be the alter-ego of a murderous ghost, so the raven-haired boy relaxed and slumped forward on his seat, propping himself up with his elbows on the table.

"Sorry," Sam apologized meekly. "Come on, let's find Tucker and get out of here."

So they packed up their bags and went to the computer terminals lining one end of the library where Tucker was bopping his head to music blasting out of the earphones connected to his PDA and surfing the Internet. Sam pulled out one of the plugs and said, "What are you doing?" Tucker jumped then glared, pulling out the other earphone. "I thought you were searching for supplementary reading for the classes you didn't bother buying a textbook for?"

"Don't have to," Tucker smirked, tapping his temple. "Cramtastic-fied brain, remember?"

"Tucker, that was four years ago," Sam rolled her eyes. "Don't you think you would require a bit of a refresher by now?"

"Nope," Tucker stretched his arms and cracked his fingers with a satisfied grin. "Chill out, Sam."

"Whatever," Sam rolled her eyes. "Come on, we're leaving."

The three of them walked together, then Sam and Tucker were about to turn left to go to the Math class the three of them shared together when Danny grabbed their elbows and led them through the front doors and into the parking lot. "What are you doing?" Tucker yelped.

"I am so not in the mood to be stared at and talked about again right now," Danny muttered. "I think my parents should be gone by now. Let's go home."

"But that's ditching!" Tucker protested.

Sam seemed more at ease with the idea, jumping into the passenger seat of Danny's car. "Seniors ditch," she said easily. "Chill out, Tuck," she mocked.

"Come on, Tucker, there's like three weeks left in the school year," Danny rolled his eyes. "No one cares. All the classes are half-empty these days. We already got our attendance taken in homeroom, what's the big deal?"

Tucker pushed himself into the backseat a little reluctantly. "Okay," he said, "but if my parents find out, I'm blaming you."

Reaching the corner of his block, Danny parked the car at the same discreet location he had picked out the previous day, cut the engine, then turned to his friends, interlocking his arms with theirs. "Okay, ready? One … two—"

"Um, can we go into your house to put away this stuff first?" Sam gestured to her schoolbag and the somewhat stylish handbag she had picked out from a clothing store she'd once deemed passable to her tastes.

Danny huffed at the mood-breaker, but agreed, so they skulked still intangible to the Fenton home and slid through the door. Jazz was on her knees in the living room with Jasper and a large white sheet spread on the floor that she was pointing animatedly to while talking so fast Danny could hardly grasp what she was saying. He turned tangible again and Jazz and Jasper both jumped.

"Oh, hey, Danny," Jazz said. "I didn't hear you come in."

Jasper seemed a bit taken aback by the appearance of the three teens, but didn't question it. "What are you guys doing?" Danny asked, releasing his grip on Sam and Tucker.

"Going over the new plans," Jazz informed, turning her attention back to the large sheet on the floor.

"New plans?"

Jasper sighed. "Your sister spent the whole of last night drawing up some new ideas, suggestions and tactics on how tackle this little problem your family's experiencing."

"When you told me Kwan had woken up, that threw a wrench into the original vision of how this was going to go," Jazz explained, "so I had to work fast to plan out our strategy and our contingencies."

"That means backup plans," Tucker informed upon seeing Danny's face twist in confusion.

"So you guys have just spent last night and today planning?" Danny questioned.

"We've been handing out posters detailing our protest this weekend since seven," Jasper told him.

"I wanted to catch the students on their way to school," Jazz stuck out her tongue in concentration as she hastily scribbled something on the sheet in black marker. "You never know who's interested in a civil protest, Danny. Your friends might actually be very sympathetic to your situation. I know Mister Lancer is – he promised to persuade as many of the teachers to join him as he can."

"Lancer's involved? When did you get him?"

"Today," Jazz shrugged. "I went to Casper High to ask if they'd mind up sticking up flyers. I don't want to hang any up in the street in case the police tear them down."

"And did Lancer tell you anything…" Danny rubbed at the back of his neck not wanting to say the words 'about me'.

"You mean the fact that he thinks you're slacking during the most important period of your life and have to put in some serious work if you hope to go anywhere?" Jazz answered in an offhanded manner. "Yeah, he told me."

Danny felt his heart sink. Jazz turned to Jasper and said sweetly, "Jasper, why don't you show Sam and Tucker the list of duties we drew up for them? I'm sure they'd love to give you some feedback on it."

Jasper took the hint and motioned for Sam and Tucker to follow him upstairs. Jazz turned her attention back to Danny, who slumped down on the couch closest to him. "So are you mad?"

"Of course not," Jazz said gently. "Mister Lancer tells me you've been trying to better yourself this semester. He told me you came in to join the newspaper a while ago and that you'd only just missed the cut-off date. And I think it's great that you sought out the peer support club if you felt that you were having trouble; it was a very mature decision to make, Danny. I was on that committee in school, and there are a lot of students who need help who refuse to acknowledge it."

"Thanks," Danny said sullenly. Jazz's words did nothing to soothe the fact that his life was circling the drain and his older sister had just found out from the vice-principal.

"Lancer told me that he believes if you put in the work, you'll get through finals just fine," Jazz said. "Danny, I know studying gets hard with the kind of schedule you keep, but the situation isn't as hopeless as I _know_ you imagine it to be." She raised her eyebrows when Danny opened his mouth to argue, and Danny fell silent.

"There are a lot of students who spend their time in high school figuring out who they are and wondering who they're going to be. That's become even more stressful for you given the circumstances, I'd imagine. This is the time when all those people find their own two feet and mature. Look, I'm not going to help you." Jazz set down the marker pen she had been holding in her fingers and fixed him with a serious look. "You know that whenever you need my help, I'll always be here with advice and comforting words, but I can't choose which path your life is going to go for you. After you get in to college, we'll see less of each other than we do now, and I want to know that you'll be okay."

She pulled back and gave Danny a kind smile. "I _trust_ that you're going to be okay."

And then she stood up and went to go get herself a glass of water. Danny stared after her.

He was in deep shit.

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After that, Danny just wasn't in the mood to go after the Guys In White anymore. He told Sam and Tuvker in a dejected tone that he wanted to put it off for a bit. They didn't seem to be doing much, after all; they could probably wait another day.

Since he couldn't exactly sit and pout by himself in the living room without someone walking in and asking what was wrong, he considered going up to his old bedroom and hoping against hope that Jasper wasn't already hanging out in there.

The room was mercifully empty. Danny tiptoed in, shut the door quietly and launched himself upon his bed, hands behind his head, and keep his eyes trained on the ceiling, wondering what the hell he was going to do. There was time for him to study – he could cut back on seeing Dash, someone he was probably focusing too much on in the first place; and he could cut out the ghost thing completely, something he was probably not focusing enough on as it was – but at the same time, selfish as it sounded, he just didn't _want_ to. He _had_ to protect the city, and he _wanted_ to have Dash. Having to give up either one would probably drive him mad at this point.

The door to the bathroom opened and out stepped Jasper clad in a towel. Danny shot up, and Jasper froze with a look of surprise on his face.

"Oh, hey kid," Jasper smiled.

Kid? Danny glared. How old was this guy – twenty? "Hey, _Jasper_," he spat.

Jasper began to pull out his clothes from his suitcase. "Got a problem?" he asked, turning his back to Danny as he began to dress.

"Huh?" Danny raised his eyebrows.

Jasper turned his head over his shoulder to grin. "Got a problem you were thinkin' about?"

"Oh, yeah," Danny turned his head the other way. "Sorry, came here to think."

"No worries. I used to do a lot of that." Jasper pulled his boxers up past his towel and then dropped the cloth. "So what was it?"

"Huh?"

"What was the problem you were thinking about?"

"Oh – um – it's not … it's nothing."

"Okay." Then … "Girlfriend problems?"

"What?"

"Boyfriend problems?"

Danny stared.

Jasper stared.

Danny began to sputter. "Wha – wha – what – what – do – you … know?"

Jasper shrugged. "I guessed."

"You – you don't even … know me."

"I know _of_ you."

"Wha – wha – what?"

Jasper flashed him another grin.

"Your type."

"My … type."

Jasper nodded.

"I don't – I – wha – what do you mean, exactly?"

Jasper took a step forward. "Jazz told me about you."

"Jazz? She told you?"

Jasper gave a little nod, now approaching the bed.

"What … exactly did she say?"

Jasper shrugged, taking a seat next to Danny on the bed. "Just a bit about who you are, little tidbits about how you're doing from what your parents tell her during their conversations. She said you were a great guy – that she sometimes worries if you're okay. And then she told me about how the guidance counselor had placed you in a support group and that the guy who called her was your sponsor and that he was supposed to be all over you 24/7, I was like 'Hmm.'"

Danny made a vow to kick both Jazz and Dash's asses the next time he saw them.

"And then she told me about how you two were slowly moving closer and closer together, and we began to wonder."

"She wonders?" Danny thought his heart might just give out.

"Well, she laughed at the idea at first; said you were too focused on women to do much else with a man – but as she kept talking to Dash, she began to consider it a possibility. You know her – her mind won't allow her to be closed to any circumstance."

"So all this time—?"

"If she hasn't said anything to you, it's probably because she's not sure yet or because she's waiting for you to come to her," Jasper declared. He placed a hand on Danny's shoulder. "So … _is_ there something for you to come to her with?"

Danny shrugged off the other man's shoulder and stood up. _"No,"_ he bit out. "And I'd appreciate you keeping what you think you know to yourself – you don't have the slightest clue about me, so don't—"

"Actually, I think you'd find I know exactly what you're going through," Jasper said softly.

Danny faltered. "What?"

"Jazz is a very understanding person," Jasper told him. "You're lucky to have someone like her with you. I don't know everything about her, of course, but I know that she's the kind to stand behind people a hundred percent. Not everybody has someone like that to turn to."

Danny squinted. "You mean – are you…?"

"Gay?" Jasper smiled. "I suppose I am."

Danny rubbed at his right elbow self-consciously. "Oh. Okay."

Jasper got up from the bed as well, getting closer to Danny, whose eyes were focused on the to-be lawyer's unclothed torso. Various jokes and discussions he had heard from his peers over the years had painted gay men as sexual deviants who would go to any lengths to get laid by man they could get their clutches on. As he stared at the bare flesh before him, Danny found an emotion twisting and coiling in the pit of his stomach and wondered if it was this sort of lust he was feeling. However, when Jasper clapped his hand on his shoulder again, Danny recognized the flare for being not one of attraction but of disgust. _'Faggot'_ his mind sneered, and Danny pulled back in shock.

"What's wrong?" Jasper asked, confused.

Danny gazed at him in horror, the dirty word still echoing in his mind. "Nothing," he blurted out. "I have to go," he added quickly before slipping out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him.

He stopped only by throwing himself onto the makeshift bed in the living room the pullout couch offered and contemplated what had just happened, unable to believe that he would throw around such a word, especially now when it only served to make him into a hypocrite.

Burying his head into the pillow, he tried his best to ignore Jazz's happy conversation with their parents in the kitchen and the bright lights that prevented him from drifting off into an easy sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Danny woke with a heavy conscience. There was nothing he could say to Jasper to make up for the stray thought that had flitted through his head without causing the other man to think he was crazy, as he hadn't been stupid enough to actually _say_ the word, but he could make up for it through Dash. Clearly, it was simply a sign that he hadn't embraced his relationship with the jock as much as he should have. As he washed his hair, Danny made the resolution to do as much as he could with his boyfriend. He said the last word firmly to himself; Dash had all but declared his love for him when they were making up for their fallout – what else were they if not boyfriends?

The focus of attention that day was on the prom to be held next week. Homeroom brought the announcement the three nominees for Prom Queen: Paulina was the obvious choice, followed by Star, and Eleanor Davis, a girl who did well to maintain her popularity even with the added pressure of Paulina's outward disdain, rounded off the competition. Eleanor had been campaigning heavily, and Star had been tiptoeing around Paulina in order to gain support without arousing the wrath of her friend, but the Latina – who still got the heaviest round of clapping and cheering when her name was announced – hadn't done anything, to Danny's knowledge, to drum up votes.

There were no nominees for the position of Prom King announced, as it was not based on a voting system unlike the title of Queen; typically the crown went to the person who best exemplified school spirit, which really only meant the most popular senior in school rather than the smartest or the most enthusiastic, which meant that Dash Baxter would be a shoo-in, but through the day Danny overheard people discussing the possibility of Kwan receiving the honor in light of his recent tragedy and recovery.

Looming closer than the prom, however, was the Senior Breakfast, an event that had become a surprisingly prominent part of Casper High's history; it had originally started as a picnic held during Senior Cut Day, but had over the years broken off into its own event due to students not wanting to spend their unofficial day off organizing everyone in the twelfth grade to meet up in a field and eat their own prepared food; nowadays, the tradition went more along the lines of students carpooling with each other to some local eatery before school, the idea being that they would enjoy each other's company more protected from blistering heat or unpredicted rainfall, eating food they didn't exert themselves to cook during an hour where they were just too bleary to be catty.

"Oh, great," Sam rolled her eyes when she found out that she was to be in Paulina's car. Only select members of the senior class were allowed to decide where the event would be held that year and as such each one of them would have to guide the rest of the students to the location. It played up the spirit of mingling with people one would never associate with on a regular basis.

Danny's eyes roamed the list and he mentally cheered to find that he was to ride with Dash, then groaning upon reading three other names that were due to join them.

"When is it going to be?" Tucker asked, coming up beside them to check the list.

"Friday," Sam informed. Past years had shown the teachers that their students tended to be more lighthearted and alert right after the Senior Breakfast than anything else, and as such had allocated the date of the event to always fall on a school day to take advantage of their students more enjoyable states.

"But it's already Wednesday! Why are they only putting up the list now?"

"Encourages spontaneity?" Danny shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Dash speaking enthusiastically to several of his teammates. "At least we'll be together," Danny mused.

"Yeah," Tucker wrapped an arm around Danny's shoulder in a gesture of solidarity.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Out of desire to spend some quality time with his boyfriend than anything else, Danny took up Sam's offer to go with Dash to the hospital to visit Kwan again after school that day. But, he had told Sam and Tucker during lunch, this would mean that they wouldn't be able to sneak into the white van until the next day.

Sam wasn't too pleased by this ultimatum. "Why can't we do both?" she had demanded. "You're procrastinating, Danny – you know what happened the last time you kept putting off asking for answers."

But Danny was firm; the exams were approaching and he had barely even begun to study. As a result, he had decided to only dedicate one and a half hours – the same amount of time, he thought ruefully, he would be spending on any of the after-school clubs he might have gotten into if he'd had the initiative – after school to detective work before parking himself in front of his books for the rest of the day and through the night.

Grudgingly, though, he agreed with Sam; in the past few months, Danny had developed a tendency to delay his responsibilities. This was nothing new – his parents and his teachers complained all the time about Danny's habit to wait until the last minute to do something, if in fact he even remembered to do it at all, but never had it seeped into his duties as Amity Park's half-ghost protector the way it had lately. So when Dash got into his car that afternoon, Danny decided that this would have all his questions about Kwan answered today, and the next day would devote himself to getting the Guys in White off his lawn.

"Didn't you have practice today?" Danny asked.

Dash shrugged. "No real point, is there? We're graduating in a couple of weeks."

"We're graduating in a month," Danny was quick to correct him, not wanting to distort the time frame had in order to achieve grades good enough to allow him to walk down that aisle and get his diploma. There were still three weeks before the exams, and he was holding on to that fact for dear life.

"The point _is_," Dash continued exasperatedly, "there's no point in us going out there anymore. Coach hasn't even come by to watch our past few drills."

"Well good," Danny said as the car rolled in to the visitor's bay. He cut the engine and turned to Dash as they both sat in darkness. "That means I have more time to do this," and he grasped the bigger boy by the front of his shirt and pulled him in to a searing kiss.

Dash made a little sound of surprise which quickly melted to a sound of yearning. When they broke off, he paused, his eyes cloudy with lust, then shook his head clear. "Listen, that reminds me – we kind of have to tone it down around Kwan."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Dash said with an air of discomfort, "he's just gotten out of that coma, you know? And the doc says he doesn't remember anything from the past two months, which means he doesn't remember about us."

"Us?"

"Us getting together."

"Oh," Danny had to remind himself that it wasn't really Kwan that had pushed him to give it a try with Dash, it had been the ghost inhabiting him at the time, probably trying to find a way to amuse himself at Danny's expense.

"Yeah," Dash pressed on. "So, I don't want to freak him out when he's just getting it together again, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah – I get it," Danny nodded, but inside he was roaring in frustration at the prospect of yet another boundary placed on his relationship with Dash. It seemed that every time they moved forward there was something out there ready to push them two steps back.

Dash seemed to sense Danny's apprehension because he leaned down to kiss him softly on the lips, either as a means to comfort him or simply to enjoy what they had while he could. Whatever the case, it was enough for Danny to force a smile on his face for the other boy's sake and nod in agreement.

In the hospital, Dash waved to Danny to let Kwan know of their arrival while he signed their names into the visitor logbook, so Danny was allowed time to glumly mull over the conversation the two of them had had in the car. His thoughts broke off when a familiar voice caught his attention. "Who are you?" he heard someone gasp in a fearful tone.

Eyes widening, Danny ran as fast as he could those last few feet to burst into Kwan's room, his body ready to attack. Kwan gave a jolt at the sudden sound of the door slamming against the wall. He blinked upon landing his sights on the smaller, messy-haired teenager. "Oh, hey, Fenton." The incapacitated boy was sitting up in bed and seemed to be twiddling his thumbs. Aside from the patient the hospital had lodged him with, the room appeared to be otherwise empty.

"Who were you talking to?" Danny's eyes darted about suspiciously.

Kwan furrowed his eyebrows. "Uh, no one?"

"I thought I heard something," Danny pressed.

Kwan raised his hands helplessly, looking about the room as though to prove to Danny that there was no one around. "Maybe you imagined it."

"Maybe," Danny relaxed his stance. Dash came sauntering in then, and Kwan's eyes fell from his best friend's face to Danny's own, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Hey, man," Dash slapped hands with Kwan amiably. "They letting you out of here soon?"

"Oh, any day now," Kwan smiled. "I'm not even sure why they've still got me here."

"Yeah, you'd think they could use the bed for someone who really needs it," Danny said, taking a seat on one of the uncomfortable chairs the room came equipped with. Dash scowled at him and then turned his attention back to Kwan.

"You think you're going to make it for the Senior Breakfast?" Dash asked.

"I hope so," Kwan replied. "It's all up to the doc really, but I'll ask next time I see her. How are things over at school?"

"Great," Dash nodded. "Exam's in a couple of weeks – not that you'll have to worry about those," he ribbed good-naturedly. "Everyone's really amped for graduation."

"That's something I _know_ I'll make it to," Kwan laughed, slapping skin with Dash once again.

"And prom," Dash reminded with a grin. "You know, Star's been hinting around whether you'll be out in time for that. She's been nominated for Prom Queen. If she gets it, and if you get King, that'd be super-sweet."

From his position, Danny marveled the cavalier attitude Dash adopted regarding the school's social events. It was such a change from Paulina's authoritarian manner; he could hardly believe this was the same superficial boy he'd known as a child who'd prized popularity and expensive gifts his parents bestowed above anything else.

"Who are you taking?" Kwan asked.

"Paulina," Dash said without a moment's hesitation. Danny sank back into the seat he was perched on, feeling a strange kind of emotion inside, though he didn't know why. He didn't expect Dash to take him – that would have been far too weird; he'd only just grown comfortable – with considerable force in effort to remain open-minded – with the idea of him and Dash being an item, there was no way he would have allowed the blonde to take him as his date to the high school dance even if he'd wanted to.

Kwan turned to Danny. "What about you, man?" he asked. "You asked anyone yet?"

Danny shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll probably go with Sam and Tucker." Kwan and Dash shared a look. "What?"

"No offense, Fenton," Kwan said, "but the only way you could go with Foley and Manson and not be lame is if you were fucking the both of them."

Danny gaped indignantly. "I have gone to plenty of dances with them."

"Yeah," Kwan said, "but this is the _prom_. Anyone who goes stag to this thing is beyond hope. Come on, it has to be a date. How are you going to get lucky with those two riding behind all the time?"

Danny locked eyes with Dash. "What about you?" he spat. "You gonna 'get lucky' on prom night?"

Kwan shrugged, obviously thinking that Danny was still talking to him, "Yeah, if everything goes right," he snickered. Dash, however, kept his attention on anything except the boy who was addressing him. Danny had his answer though.

"I have to go," he said coldly.

"Go? You just got here," Kwan said with some surprise.

"Yes, well, I need to study," Danny marched towards the door. "You see, _I_ haven't been guaranteed straight A's for the semester, so I need to work to achieve _my_ diploma."

"Hey, Danny, come on," Dash started for him, but Danny threw his hands off and silently stalked out the door. Dash turned to Kwan who was still watching the proceedings with surprise etched on his face.

"He's really been stressing about finals," Dash offered lamely. "Lancer's got everyone freaked, you should see it." There was an awkward pause. "Look, I better go, Danny's my ride, and – I got some stuff to do for Friday too."

"Yeah, sure," Kwan acquiesced with an easy smile.

Dash pointed a finger at him even as his feet led him away, "You be sure to ask the doc if you can make it, alright?"

"I will," Kwan flashed his friend a thumbs-up. "Good luck, man."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Dash tried to explain in the car, but Danny wasn't in the mood to listen. "Look, Kwan doesn't know – Paulina and I already made plans – you don't want me to actually take you, do you? What would people say? – it's not like you said you wanted to go with me—"

"I _don't_ want to go with you," Danny snarled.

Dash fell silent, but his posture remained rigid waiting for Danny to continue with his tongue-lashing. Danny, however, considered the subject closed.

His car squealed to a stop at Dash's house, and after a moment, Dash decided that Danny truly wasn't going to say anything else and opened the door to step out. He'd gotten one foot on the ground when Danny suddenly piped up, "Are you going to fuck her?"

Dash turned back, looking nonplussed. "Who?"

"Paulina. Are you going to fuck her?" Danny kept his eyes focused on the road in front of him even though the car was perfectly still.

Dash's face softened. "Why would I?" he questioned. "Why would she even let me knowing I'm with you?"

Danny whipped his head around to glower at Dash. "Like she actually cares about that," he scoffed derisively.

Dash shook his head, then pulled himself out of the car, closing the door behind him without another glance back. Danny turned his head to glare out at the road before him again and peeled away from the Baxter residence.

------------------------------------------------------------------

From the moment he got home, Danny tried to drown himself in his books, but by midnight with the whole family and Jasper sound asleep and nothing but the moonlight flowing in through the kitchen window to keep him company, he finally admitted defeat and tossed his pen down in exasperation.

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the day's events and wondering exactly what it was that made him so angry. In his heart, he knew that Paulina had been surprisingly supportive of the relationship, and Dash's words did make sense – why would the teen queen want to sleep with someone who seemed more interested in being with a man? It sounded quite degrading to Danny, so he was sure Paulina wouldn't try to put the moves on Dash, and Dash had already said he wouldn't try anything; and he had no interest in going to prom on the football player's arm – the very thought of it made him shudder in revulsion – so there didn't seem to be much of anything fueling his anger. Yet there it was, bubbling inside him and distracting him from his work.

Tiredly, Danny decided that a bit of exercise would do him some good and closed his eyes to focus on changing into Danny Phantom. He lifted himself above the chair and drifted through the window to take off into the night sky.

Idly he wondered if there was a chance of scaring up the Box Ghost for a few rounds of physical exertion, but at the same time did not want to risk stumbling on to anyone else that would require more effort; the Box Ghost he could handle, anytime, anyplace, but the rest had a vendetta against him and seemed intent on bringing their A-game to the table, something Danny was in no mood to deal with right then.

So he settled for mindlessly floating through the night sky, enjoying a rare opportunity to just be free, to indulge in the perks his alter-ego afforded him without having to shift into battle-mode.

Just as the thought ran through his mind though, Danny let out a yelp as he was knocked out of the sky. A burning sensation in his side stole his attention away from the fact that he was falling out of the sky, and his back slammed against the grassy knoll he landed on, causing him to bounce and flip over to land on his stomach with a grunt. His body had survived worse, and Danny didn't think he had even broken anything, but he had lost his breath and was practically seeing stars.

He heard a soft _whoosh_ to his right and turned his head to find—

His eyes widened, taking in a sleek modern invention attached to the shiny synthetic leather boots of an individual dressed in a sleek suit topped off with a helmet that hid his or her face. Danny hadn't seen anyone in an outfit like that since—

"Valerie?" he ventured.

It didn't look like Valerie. This person's figure hulked larger than hers, big-boned though the girl had been. Danny, chest still heavily, got up on trembling legs, still unable to tear his eyes away from the half-shadowed apparition in front of him. It was a man, Danny was sure; the suit hugged his body revealing muscles too big to belong to any female, a height more commonly achieved by men, and, Danny thought, a bit of a bulge in the crotch.

Whomever it was didn't seem to be advancing forward or backing down; the two of them stood there in the moonlight staring dumbly at each other. The suited individual had a gun that looked like nothing else Danny had ever seen aimed directly at him, and Danny was hunched slightly, hand over a newly-formed wound.

And then, it began to speak. "I'm going to kill you," it breathed with a heavily distorted voice.

Then without another word, it kicked off the grass and blasted off into the night, stealing Danny's breath again and causing his legs to give out so that he toppled on the ground again, still clutching the bleeding wound.


	29. As I Lay Dying

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

* * *

Danny pulled open the door to the medicine cabinet and clumsily pawed through the various items located inside

Danny pulled open the door to the medicine cabinet and clumsily pawed through the various items located inside. Living with a pair of ghost-hunters with a knack for exploding inventions for parents meant that the house was usually well-stocked with beyond the typical first-aid kit. It was nearly two in the morning by the time Danny returned; he had taken far too long to gather his energy to move again after being knocked back down on the ground following his attacker's leave, and his recent injury had forced him to all but float home. All he wanted now was to dress the wound and get some sleep before having to drag himself to school.

He attempted to lean forward to get a better view of what he was doing and hissed in pain, his unoccupied arm flying to the wound. That hurt. It hurt more than any other abrasions he'd received in years. Back in her time, Valerie Gray had gotten a few good hits whenever she and Danny Phantom would scuffle, but over the years, his body's endurance had grown exponentially, and his recovery rate was nothing short of amazing. But this _hurt_.

"Danny?" he heard a sleepy voice behind him.

"Jazz?" he spun around quickly and winced as his body screamed in protest.

Jazz didn't miss the flinch, and immediately all remnants of drowsiness evaporated. She was instantly by his side, grasping the hand over the wound gently with her own smaller palms. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Let me see."

"No, it's okay, I—" Danny was cut off when she raised the hem of his shirt and hissed in sympathy at the sight of a nasty burn marring the side of her brother's body.

"How did this happen?" she asked.

Danny's shoulders slumped. "I ran into some guy – and he was carrying a gun."

"What kind of a gun causes … this?" she gestured to the wound.

Danny pulled his shirt back down. "The kind meant to take down ghosts," he snapped, turning back to the medicine cabinet to resume rummaging through it. "Go back to sleep."

"Your skin looks charred! They might be third-degree burns – we need to get you to the hospital – there might be extensive nerve damage preventing you from feeling the full effect…"

Danny winced as he felt a particularly sharp spike in pain. "No, Jazz," he gritted, "I'm feeling the effect, _trust_ me."

He finally found what he was looking for, pulling out a roll of gauze and tossing it to lie on a nearby table. Jazz's face softened, and she reached in to add a few bottles Danny usually disregarded. "You need to clean it first," she reprimanded softly, guiding him to a seat and pulling off his shirt completely.

Danny sighed in relief at being able to sit and let his head loll back. Jazz grabbed a packet containing wads of cotton and pressed one over the head of a container before tipping it over so that the liquid wetted it, then pressed it against Danny's skin. Danny let out a cry at the unexpected flash of pain, but quickly silenced himself for fear of waking their parents.

Jazz tutted and went to refrigerator to pull out an ice tray, breaking off a few and wrapping them in a light cloth. "Here," she handed it to Danny. "Keeping the skin cool will help with further tissue damage."

Danny accepted it gratefully and pressed the cloth against the wound, letting out a quiet hiss. "Why are you even up?" he questioned.

"I wanted to get a glass of water," Jazz told him. "Standing on that soapbox today took a lot out of me."

Danny nodded, feeling a bit guilty about the fact that he hadn't done anything to help alleviate the situation with the Guys in White, but brushed it off quickly. Jazz loved this kind of stuff, and he would probably only get in the way. Still, he felt the need to tell her that he was doing _something_ to help the family, and found himself saying, "I was thinking I'd sneak into the van and see what those guys are up to, if they have anything on us."

He expected Jazz to tell him not to do it, that it was dangerous and stupid, but to his surprise she nodded in approval. "That's a good idea," she commended. "It's always best to see what the enemy's got going for them."

"You think so?" Danny asked, feeling a bit bolstered by her words. "I thought you'd tell me not to because it was breaking and entering."

"It's not like you haven't done it before," she shot back. "I'd say this is an overall better use of your powers than sneaking into the girls' locker room, wouldn't you?"

And just like that, what little bit of a good mood he had vanished. "Jazz…" he started tentatively. He wanted to ask her what she thought about him and Dash, about the possibility that her little brother might be gay. Jazz seemed to sense that he was trying to say something meaningful, because her face arranged itself into a sober expression, waiting for him to get the words out. "…Never mind."

Jazz seemed a bit disappointed but nodded. She approached the table, taking the ice pack away from him and grabbing another bottle, which she uncapped, aimed at the mark, and then pressed the nozzle. Danny's face twisted and his mouth fell open, but he managed to hold his scream in. "It'll help," she soothed, pressing the nozzle once more. Then she finally reached for the gauze, pulling it across his torso several times until they completely covered the area of the wound and a few inches above and below it.

"You should at least have the school nurse look at it," she advised, pulling back to inspect her work.

Danny snorted, gently pressing his hand against the gauze to see how well it held up. Jazz did good work, he had to admit. "And tell her what, that I was flying over Amity Park when some maniac with an ecto-gun scored a direct hit?"

"Or you could say that the steam from your car's radiator was responsible," she suggested.

Danny pulled his shirt back on slowly and rested his elbows on his lap, keeping his eyes down. "Thanks, Jazz," he muttered.

She ran her fingers through his hair quickly, knowing he hated it when she did that – heaven knows why, she would always think; his hair was messy enough as it was. "Take care of yourself, Danny," she said warmly, then made her way back upstairs, all thoughts of hydrating herself forgotten.

Light filtered through Danny's eyes. He squeezed them tighter in attempt to coax his body back into hibernation and buried his face in the pillow groaning. It became apparent soon enough that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so he turned over and rubbed his eyes, stretching luxuriously.

He bolted upright when he realized it was Thursday morning and scrambled for his cellphone still in the pocket of his jeans which were crumpled at the bottom of the makeshift bed.

"_Twelve thirty-two?"_ he shrieked in horror. He had missed half his classes!

Choosing to forgo a shower was a no-brainer. He threw on his clothes and hopped to the kitchen still trying to pull on his pants to collect his books and found Jazz and Jasper there munching on pretzels. Jasper caught sight of him and held one of the packets up. Danny ignored him.

"What's the rush, Danny?" Jazz asked when he flew past her to dump all his textbooks haphazardly into his bag.

"I'm late!" Danny couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. "Lancer's going to _kill_ me. Why didn't anybody wake me up?"

Jazz shrugged. "Mom and Dad left before you usually do, and we only got down here at ten. Besides, what does it matter? You're a senior."

"Lancer already thinks I'm a slacker, the last thing I need is for him to get on my case for skipping." The idea of staying home did seem tempting. School let out in three hours anyway, what was the point? Danny shook his head. He hadn't managed to get any studying done the previous night – he had to do something to ease his conscience.

Jazz shrugged. "Suit yourself. All I know is, I didn't bother going for the last couple of weeks of my senior year. I found independent study to be much more rewarding."

"Yeah, well, we're not all so lucky," Danny grumbled, snatching up his keys and running out the door.

Lunch was already over by the time Danny reached school. He hadn't been able to find a space in the school's tiny parking lot at this hour and so had had to drive around searching for someplace safe to stow his car without he risk of coming back to it with a ticket under the wiper. He cursed himself for not having thought of flying to school until he was already halfway to his destination point, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Worse luck waited for him inside. "Ah, Mister Fenton," Lancer was incidentally the first one Danny met, "so nice of you to join us. We missed you in History – and in Calculus too."

"Sorry, Mister Lancer," Danny mentally kicked himself for not turning invisible until he had safely secured himself in his next class. "I can't really talk; I'm due in shop class."

"Very well, Mister Fenton" Lancer was surprisingly willing to let him go without a lecture. "Tell your sister my fellow staff members and I will see her at the protest lines."

Danny blinked, then remembered Jazz's ramblings about what was going to happen Saturday. "Right," he said quickly, then rushed off to find his classroom.

Dash happened to take shop class as an elective as well, and he just so happened to be positioned in the seat right behind Danny's. It had been somewhat of a pain at first, with all the opportunities of lobbing spitballs the spot offered the jock, but Danny was glad now for the chance to have him close.

Kwan had taken the class as well, but as he was still in the hospital under observation, Danny took the opportunity to sidle up next to Dash that day. "Whatcha' doin'?" he asked.

"Coffee table," Dash grunted, not taking his eyes off his roaring tools.

"Isn't that a bit simplistic for a final assignment?" Danny questioned, snapping his safety goggles on.

"Let's see what you have to say once it's done," Dash chanced a grin before turning back to his work again. "What are you doing?"

"Miniature clock," Danny informed. Dash's eyebrows shot up, a sign that he was impressed. "Well," Danny amended, "Tuck's going to handle the mechanical part. I'm just creating the vessel."

Dash snorted. "Why not pick something you can do yourself then?"

"Because I need all the marks I can get," Danny said truthfully.

Danny had wanted Sam and Tucker to sign up for shop class with him, but Sam had opted for Drama instead, having always wanted to see if her artistic abilities spread so far as to help her survive the high school stage, and Tucker had glumly informed him his mother hadn't allowed him to, fearing that combining power tools with eyesight as poor as her son's was a sure death sentence and had insisted that he take cooking instead in order to prevent himself from starving once he was left to fend for himself. Still, Tucker had offered to help with what he could when Danny had mentioned that he needed to step up in order to get as good a grade as possible in any and all of his classes.

They worked in silence for a while again. Danny had to admit he was a bit surprised it was so comfortable between them given the fight they had just had the previous day.

"So Kwan's still not out yet, huh?" Danny asked in order to keep the silence from turning awkward.

"No, but I'm going to see him after school and he'll tell me if he'll be out in time for Senior Breakfast tomorrow." Dash hesitated. "Do you want to come along?"

Danny paused a moment, considering. "Nah," he shook his head. He figured he had done his bit with the visits – it was obvious Kwan was ready to rejoin them any day regardless of whether he made it for tomorrow's event or not – and now he had an excuse to respectfully bow out, thanks to yesterday's incident.

Dash nodded and left the issue alone.

"So I'm picking you up tomorrow," he said conversationally.

"Oh, yeah, I saw," Danny nodded. "Where are we headed?"

Dash smirked. "Surprise."

Danny rolled his eyes. "It's really too bad we won't have any time alone," he said hoping for his voice to find a tone between suggestive and nonchalant.

"Isn't Foley in my car too?" he questioned, to which Danny nodded. "So is Kwan."

"Great. Two best friends to worry about."

Dash snorted. Neither of them could think of a thing to say after that so they continued working in silence. It was quite hard to talk over the whirring of the drill Dash was using anyway.

Danny had always had a remarkable ability to ignore his bruises; even as a child, while other kids ran to their mothers to have them tend to the scrapes they'd gotten, he'd push his out of his thoughts in favor of staying outside to play with his friends some more – a little water, a band aid, and it would be taken care of, he knew – but this time, he'd spent two classes in a row trying to bite down agonized screams, and had so decided to take Jazz's advice on going to the school nurse.

He had never been there aside from one occasion that involved what the nurse described as a 'fainting spell' in his sophomore year – the truth was that he'd been distracted by worries over an unfinished report that was due later in the day and had been slammed right into a brick wall by some ghost and had been carried over by Sam and Tucker; he'd been excused from the rest of his classes and had managed to pull a decent grade on the paper he had handed up the next day – but had gotten familiar with the entire routine thanks to Tucker's many trips to the nurse himself, whether it be due to his tendency to get into accidents or just his habit of faking.

Nurse Alridge ushered him inside and sat him down a tiny bed. "I don't usually get visitors towards the end of the year," she busied herself with getting a stethoscope and thermometer, "much less a senior." She tried to shove the apparatus into his mouth, but Danny resisted.

"I just need you to take a look at something," he protested, trying to bat her hands away. He straightened his back and lifted his shirt just high enough for her to see the marks.

"Dear Lord, what caused that?" she leaned forward to inspect it.

"Uh, my car radiator," Danny remembered the excuse Jazz had cooked up for him. Nurse Alridge stared at him in horror.

"Good grief, Mister Fenton, we ought to take you to the hospital!"

"No!" Danny hollered. "I mean – my parents will take care of it. They'll take me to the hospital if they think it's bad. I just need you to tell me what you think."

"If you say so, Mister Fenton," the nurse said doubtfully. She put on the glasses that had been dangling around her neck to get a better view. "You say your radiator did this?"

"Yeah," Danny said nervously. "Why – does it not look that way?"

"Not really, no," Alridge replied, snapping on a pair of gloves and squeezing a dollop of gel on to her fingers from a tube. "I see some cuts on the area; I suppose the steam could have been hot enough to break the skin, but it doesn't really look that way. It looks like something from a blast or something. Something highly-concentrated."

"How would you know that?" Danny questioned.

"Being a nurse at Casper High offers you training no other institution could give, Mister Fenton," she rubbed at the spot, sending a cool sensation spreading through his body. "You wouldn't believe the things I've seen. Did you know, Valerie Gray used to come in with the strangest afflictions on her body … how does this feel?"

Danny gritted his teeth, not used to the stimulation around his wound. "Fine," he got out.

Nurse Alridge pushed her chair back and slid her glasses off her nose. "Well, Fenton," she said, "I highly recommend that you go to a doctor as soon as possible with that. Until then, take this," she reached over to the cabinet behind her and tossed his a moderate-sized tube. Danny inspected it.

"What's this?"

"Aloe vera. It's the only thing I can think to prescribe without knowing what caused your wound – I think we both know a car radiator wouldn't be capable of _that_," she added severely when he opened his mouth to protest.

"Thank you," Danny said shamefully, stuffing the tube into his backpack.

"Good luck on your finals, Mister Fenton," she bade before shutting the door.

* * *

Danny ran into Sam and Tucker outside when the final bell rang. "Hey," Sam said with some surprise. "We didn't see you in homeroom. We thought you skipped out."

"I was late," Danny fumed. "I slept through my alarm, and Jazz did nothing to wake me up."

"Why'd you come? I thought you had no problems with ditching," Tucker reminded.

"I don't want Lancer getting on my case any more than he's already done," Danny defended, then after a moment, added, "and I needed to see the nurse."

"Why?" Sam frowned.

"It's nothing major," he tried to console. Then he sighed, "Well, actually, it is – come here."

He pulled them to one side of the building where there were less people milling about, looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to them, then lifted his shirt. Sam and Tucker hissed in sympathy as they saw the welts and cuts.

"Danny, what happened?" Sam asked in a horrified tone.

"An ecto-gun happened," Danny said soberly. "You'll never believe what I ran into last night." And he proceeded to tell them the story of the mysterious ghost hunter and his death threat.

"Who would want to hunt you down?" Sam questioned.

"That's a little obvious; maybe it was a Guy in White," Tucker suggested. "They've got the build, and they've got the access to hi-tech gear."

Danny hadn't considered that, but it was a very plausible idea. They had more motive than anyone else he could think of. "Look, I've got to take care of this. Jazz is worried and the nurse said I should go to a doctor. I just can't let my parents find out."

"What are you going to do?" Tucker raised his eyebrows. "Any reputable doc will definitely call your folks."

Danny growled. "Isn't there some confidentiality law or something? I mean, what if I were pregnant? Would they call my parents for that too?"

"No," Sam smirked, "they'd call Time magazine and make the rounds to all the talk shows." Danny glowered at her.

"Will you guys just help me, please?"

"Alright, alright," Sam held her hands up, and paused to think. She snapped her fingers. "Is Jazz still home?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"If she is, we can give them your home number and she could pretend to be your mom. She's got the whole maturity thing going for her, doesn't she?"

"Since she was, like, eleven," Danny muttered. "Alright, let's go." He tossed Sam the car keys and slid into the passenger seat. On the ride to the hospital, he called Jazz on his cellphone and quickly explained what he needed her to do. She was hesitant, unsure that it would be so easy to fool the hospital and feeling certain that they had forgotten some important aspect, but had agreed eventually.

The receptionist was a dour-looking woman with heavy bags under her eyes. "Yes?" she grunted as the three teenagers approached.

"My friend here needs a doctor," Sam gestured towards Danny. "He's got a really bad burn, he needs someone to look at it."

"Fill out this form," she pushed a small stack of papers through the hole in the glass that separated them, and returned to her paperwork.

Sam eyed the sheets, her lip curling. "Can't we do this later? I mean, he's burned! He needs medical attention quick."

"Everyone needs to fill the forms, ma'am," the receptionist didn't even sound phased by Sam's unpleasant tone. "We need your personal information and medical insurance before a doctor can treat him."

The three of them froze. "Medical insurance?" Sam stammered.

The receptionist nodded slowly as if she thought the goth girl were a stupid child. Tucker collected the papers and they slowly made their way to the chairs.

"What are we going to do?" he hissed.

"I don't know," Sam whispered back. "If we try to fake it, they could can us for insurance fraud." They caught sight of the receptionist studying them and quickly bowed their heads pretending that they were working on the forms.

"Maybe you should call your parents," Tucker told him. "They can get everything sorted out."

"And have them freak out? How would I explain that I'd just been shot?"

"They'd never know! Without their insurance, how are you going to get your wound checked out?"

"This could be what you need, Danny," Sam nodded. "If it was a Guy in White, then this could finally be the reason to get them off your back."

"Whoever it was thought he shot Danny Phantom – how am I going to explain why Danny Fenton has the marks without giving myself away? Not to mention that if we're wrong and it wasn't a government agent, I'd have dug a bigger hole for myself."

Sam chewed at her lip. "I've got some money we can use," she offered. "If we can pay cash upfront, insurance probably won't matter."

"I am _not_ going to use your money," Danny said, then clammed up in embarrassment as he realized just how loudly he had declared that. Lowering his voice, he muttered, "What do you take me for?"

"Then what are we going to do?" Sam persisted. Danny was ready to wash his hands clean of the whole matter. If he couldn't afford treatment, so be it – he still had the tube of aloe vera, and his recovery rate had often left him with hardly a trace of a mark from his previous scrapes. "I'm going for a walk," he muttered.

"Whoa, dude, we still have to finish this," Tucker waved the pile of papers in his hand but Danny was already walking away. Without thought, his feet guided him down the familiar path to the elevator and up to the floor Kwan was on.

"Fenton!" the bigger boy greeted cheerfully when Danny walked in.

"Hey, Kwan," Danny said glumly.

"Whoa, what's up with the raincloud?" Kwan noted immediately.

Danny shrugged and threw himself on to a chair, not bothering to meet the other boy's eyes.

They sat together in silence for about ten seconds before Kwan asked, "So, where's Dash?"

"Huh?" Danny blinked in surprise.

"Dash? Every time I see you here, you're with him. Is he signing in?" Kwan elaborated. Danny stared at him blankly for a moment before it hit him.

"Oh, no, I'm not – I'm not with Dash," he said lamely, and hated himself for how those words triggered another swell of moping within him. He knew he was being a baby, and unfairly contradictory with what he was expecting out of this relationship with Dash – some might even go so far as to say he was being _unreasonable_; butt damn it, he had spent the last four years of his life trying to protect the town he lived in only to be continuously hounded by the government and whatever civilian bearing a grudge who thought she could take him down on her own, deprived of human contact the way he needed it and _craved_ it for too long and now was faced with the prospect that he, just his whole life in general, had no idea where it was going; he had more of a right to be unreasonable than Sam during that time of the month.

"Oh," Kwan sounded disappointed by this, but propped himself against his pillows to better look at Danny. "So what's up?"

Danny shrugged. "I was just around, I thought I'd see how you were doing."

"Thanks," Kwan said sincerely.

There was a moment's pause. "So how are you?" Danny asked.

Kwan shrugged. "I'm good. My folks are trying to get the doctors to let me leave since they can't find anything wrong with me."

Danny nodded mutely again. The truth was, he couldn't think of a single thing to talk to Kwan about. The friend he had thought he made so many weeks ago had disappeared, and now here was the boy he had gone to school with all his life but had never gotten to know. At least he wasn't the only one – Kwan tapped a finger against the blanket that covered most of his body while keeping his eyes averted. Eventually he piped up, "Hey, so Senior Breakfast; that should be fun."

"Yeah," Danny said, grateful that Kwan was the one who brought up a topic. "You going?"

"Maybe," Kwan said. "Depends on if I get the okay from the doctor." They lapsed into silence again. "How's CH?"

"Huh?"

"Casper," Kwan clarified.

"Oh, it's…" Danny paused, then decided it would be no use to lie.. "God, it _sucks_. Lancer's gone off the deep end, everyone is scared shitless for finals, and these are the guys who actually did something with their year to get into college, unlike me, I just sat on my ass for all of eight months; I think the government might be spying on our school because of me, and..." The look on Kwan's face told Danny that he was rambling and he was fortunately able to pull himself together before spilling any more secrets of a more incriminating nature. "Sorry," he hung his head abashedly. "I'll just be going now."

Unwilling to return so quickly to his friends who were no doubt still puzzling over the admission forms, Danny tucked his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans and strolled around, not paying attention to anything in particular. His focus returned when he thought he heard a voice calling his name.

"Daniel!"

"Vlad?" Danny couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice when he found himself staring at the older man dressed down in one of the hospital gowns and lying in bed. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I came in about a couple of days ago," Vlad said casually.

"Why?" Danny frowned.

"That crackpot I hired up and quit on me," Vlad growled. "Said that he couldn't handle the abuse anymore, when _I_ was the one who housed and clothed him out of my own expenses when all he had to do was give me the medication he prescribed." He laid back, a serene smile gracing his face again. "So I decided to come here and receive the best treatment a former mayor could possibly receive," he gestured to the large private room.

"What are you in for?" Danny questioned.

"My heart murmurs," Vlad reminded. "And what brings you here, Daniel?"

"Oh, I was just…" Danny decided midway to show him, and lifted up his shirt. Vlad winced and let out a hiss of sympathy. "Sam and Tucker are trying to get me checked out by someone here right now, but we're trying to figure out how to do that without alerting my parents."

Vlad fingered a nonexistent beard. "And I suppose you're going to tell me I'm to blame for you receiving such an injury?" He clearly had not forgotten Danny's accusation the last time they had met.

"I'm pretty sure this is all on me, but then again, I'm not very sure of anything these days," Danny said pitifully.

Vlad didn't say anything for a minute and Danny wondered if it would be proper to excuse himself when the older man was scrutinizing him so closely; then Vlad said, "Well, I think I have the perfect solution then," and he reached over to buzz a nurse.

A heavyset woman with an exasperated look on her face appeared. "Something you need, Mister Masters?" she asked with a tone that suggested she had asked this question too many times before.

"Oh, nurse," Vlad said in an overly-sweet manner, "my young charge here is in need of medical assistance. Could you be a dear and have a doctor attend to him? Tell him that I shall cover the bill."

The nurse's eyes shifted to Danny, who ducked his head in embarrassment. She gave a curt nod and walked away. Vlad patted himself on the stomach in self-satisfaction. Danny turned to him, unsure whether to thank or berate the man, when he noticed a rather large scar on Vlad's right arm.

"Hey, what's that?" Danny's eyes widened. The clean line running through his skin looked new. He reached for Masters' arm to inspect it more closely only to have his palm slapped rather painfully away.

"Don't touch that," Vlad snapped.

Danny rubbed his stinging hand. "Don't tell me you drove the nurses here so crazy that they tried to scratch you to death already," he mocked.

"Oh, I see," Vlad said sarcastically, "this is how you show your appreciation for people who have just offered to pay your medical bill."

That sobered Danny up, and he gazed at Vlad with grateful eyes. "No, seriously, thanks Vlad. That means a lot to me."

Vlad folded his arms, looking determined to continue admonishing him, but then sighed and said, "Well, what else is a rich old man to do?"

"Oh, come on," Danny said awkwardly. He usually teased his parents about their age, and so was unsure how to cheer the grey-haired man about his.

"No, Daniel, it's true – my life is coming to a close, I told you that when I gave you my ghost half," Vlad paused. "Well, not in so many words, but why else would I give it up?

"Normally, I would have left you to squirm and let Jack scrounge up the money to bail you out, but I've got to spend my ridiculously large fortune some time, lest it go to the _government_ or whoever sees fit to rob a corpse."

Danny stared as Vlad's fist curled in detest. "Uh, yeah. Look, I better go. Thanks for taking care of it!" he chirped over his shoulder, throwing a careless wave goodbye.

* * *

Author's Note: I did write more, but it always seemed to end on a boring note, so I figured better to cut it abruptly and leave it a bit funny instead.

Sorry for the massive wait, things have been getting hectic in college. Please read and review! :D

Edit: WTF happened to all the lines I used as dividers? Why are the people who run this place so obsessive-compulsive about changing every little bit of this site's capabilities until you never know WHAT'S happening anymore? One day you can't put in an obliq, one day you can't put the kinds of dividers you want - what next? Are we not going to be able to italicize with the next "upgrade"?


	30. Devotion

Author: loosedefense

Title: Weak

Pairing: Danny/Dash

Disclaimer: Danny Phantom is the property of Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This story implies nothing about the characters nor does the plot of the story have any effect on the show itself. This story is pure fiction and fantasy.

* * *

In his frustration, the doctor had told Danny that there wasn't much he would be able to do if Danny kept lying to him over how he got injured; rather than give in, Danny had opted to storm out, mentally wishing the man a painful death, and went home. His parents noticed his sullen attitude during dinner, but he simply brushed off their questions with a not-untrue excuse about being worried about his upcoming exams.

"Don't worry, son," Jack said sunnily. "Those things don't really matter; the colleges have already accepted you anyway."

Maddie shushed him, but gave the boy a reassuring smile. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Danny," she said. "By the way, you've never really told us how your college applications have been getting along."

Danny chewed slowly, aware that all eyes were on him. His heart pounded almost painfully quick against his chest. "Uh, it's uh – going good."

"Where did you apply?" Jack asked.

Danny swallowed, quickly trying to think up names as quickly as possible. "Uh – Syracuse, and … UCLA … and NYU … Princeton," he recalled Sam's choice university.

Maddie's eyebrows rose. "That's an impressive list. Very reputable."

"Oh, yeah, definitely reputable," Danny nodded, then ducked his head in attempt to divert any further questions.

"They'd probably need some high grades," Maddie continued.

Danny nodded silently, stuffing his mouth full of tuna to save him the trouble of answering. His parents shared glances then returned to their own dinners.

"So," Jasper spoke up, then lapsed into silence again, "Hillary and Obama, huh?"

The atmosphere lightened immediately with enthusiastic chatter from Jack and Jazz. Danny glumly picked at his food with his fork and refrained from volunteering his opinion, but he couldn't help noticing that his mother wasn't saying much either.

"It's going to feel so good to have a woman in office for once," Jazz stated confidently.

"There's no way she's going to gain the nomination," Jasper refuted. "This election has been all about Obama."

"I don't doubt it," Jazz sneered. "America was stupid enough to re-elect Bush in 2004, they'd be stupid enough to vote Obama now."

"Oh, honey, you're not being fair," Jack chided.

"Yeah," Jasper nodded. "They both have the same stands on issues—"

"_The same stands on issues?_" Jazz shrieked. "Is that why Obama's health plan leaves out approximately 15 million Americans? Not to mention that he has _no_ experience on Hillary's 35 years—"

"He was a senator," Jack pointed out. "Don't you think you're being a little bit biased because you're a woman?"

There was a deathly silence again as Jazz slowly turned to face her father and cocked her head dangerously.

"Really wrong thing to say, Mister Fenton," Jasper muttered.

Jack seemed unapologetic. Nevertheless, he compromised saying, "Well, no matter who gets it, it'll sure be great to have a Democrat in office again. Right, sweetheart?" he turned to Maddie.

Maddie looked up. "Hmm?"

"I said it'll be great to have a Democrat in office again. Right?"

Maddie gave a small shrug. "Yes, it will certainly be a change of pace."

The other four occupants in the room shared at her in confusion. Jack blinked.

"Well, at least even having McCain in would be better than Bush," Jasper offered diplomatically, to which Jazz nodded animatedly

"Like I said," Maddie resumed taking a bite of her food, "it would be a change of pace."

Jack gaped. Jazz froze. Danny's eyes darted from one parent to the other.

"Mom," Jazz said slowly, "are you … a Bush-sympathizer?"

"Well," Maddie said, "I think perhaps he's received a bit of a bad reputation…"

"Maddie, what are you talking about?" Jack said aghast. "How can you say that after everything he's done? What about Iraq? And Afghanistan?"

Maddie threw up her arms. "They hurt us first!"

Jazz let out a scandalized squeak. "God, Mom, you sound like one of those people who voted him back in office in 2004."

Maddie cast her daughter a sympathetic gaze. "Honey, I _did_ vote for Bush in 2004."

There was a collective gasp.

"I _thought_," Jack said in disbelief, "that we were all for Kerry."

"Oh, please," Maddie spat. "That man was a flip-flopper. I'm not saying Bush was the greatest candidate," she continued when he opened his mouth to object, "but at least with him, I knew what I was getting."

It appeared that no one could comprehend what they were hearing. At that moment, the phone in the living room rang.

"I'll get it," Danny jumped up.

"No, let me," Maddie beat him to the punch, eager to get away from the scene. Danny cursed inwardly; he had been hoping to make his exit and avoid any further questioning on his plans for college. His father didn't seem too bothered though. He sat there with a dark look in his eyes.

A couple of minutes later, Maddie stepped back into the room, a stunned expression on her face. Jack's eyes immediately filled with concern. "What happened?"

Maddie's jaw moved uselessly for a moment before she managed to croak out, "That was the hospital."

Danny felt a cold shard of fear pierce his heart. Had the doctor somehow found a way to contact his parents and told them Danny had come to him about his burn?

"The hospital? What did they want?"

Maddie sat herself back down, ignoring the half-full plate before her. "They said Vlad's been with them for days waiting for surgery."

"I never knew Vlad was in the hospital," Jack said. "Since when?"

"A couple of days, they said."

Danny's mind lingered on what his mother had just said. Vlad was waiting for surgery? Why hadn't he known that?

"But that's not why they called," Maddie said. She sounded strange, as though slightly dazed. Jack raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate. "Vlad's missing."

"Vlad's missing?" Jack echoed blankly. "Vlad's _missing_? What does that mean?"

Maddie shook her head. "The nurses don't know where he is. He was in his room last time they saw him, and when they went to check on him earlier, he was gone. They checked the entire hospital – he wasn't anywhere to be found. So they called us. Vlad listed us as his emergency contact in case anything went wrong. They want us to come to the hospital. His lawyers and the police are there right now."

Danny realized his mother was in shock. She had to be – he felt as though _he_ was in shock and he wasn't the one who received the call.

Jack was on his feet immediately. "Well, let's go," he urged. "Kids, you stay here."

"No way!" Jazz jumped up as well. "We're going."

"We are?" Jasper questioned.

"Vlad's lawyers would be a perfect way to gain more experience," Jazz cheered. "Just think of it as on-the-job training."

"Jazz, that's not very nice," Maddie scolded. "Danny, maybe you should take your car in case your father and I have to stay longer."

"Yeah, sure."

"We'll go with you, Danny," Jazz placed an arm around her brother's shoulders, leading him out the door.

Through the entire ride, Jazz briefed Jasper on Vlad's history, going over the history between their parents and him, and his brief career as mayor of Amity Park. Danny gritted his teeth, but found that she had not let anything about Danny's personal history with the man slip out, and so kept his words to himself.

His annoyance with Jazz only increased in the hospital. While waiting for a doctor to attend to them, she kept hissing instructions to Jasper. "And when the lawyers get here, maybe you could try to ask them how much they bill Vlad; it would give you an idea of a benchmark figure to work towards when you begin your career..."

Even Jasper seemed to be growing irritated with her. "Jazz, I know what to do, _I'm_ the law student here!"

Jazz gaped, then crossed her arms and looked away. Danny sniggered.

"May I help you?" they heard a rude voice call over. Danny turned his attention to find the same sour receptionist he'd met earlier in the day.

"Yes," Maddie said, following her husband over to the counter, "we're here about Vlad Masters? We were told he'd gone … missing?"

The receptionist's eyes widened "Oh, yes. Hold on, let me page the doctor."

The family – and Jasper – waited impatiently for a few minutes before a graying man in blue overalls approached them, extending his hand to shake with Jack and Maddie.

"We've called the police, and the lawyers," he said in lieu of greeting. "You were on Mister Master's emergency contact sheet, so you were the first we notified."

"How could this have happened?" Jack asked loudly.

"Jack, please," Maddie shushed, placing a comforting hand on her husband's arm. She turned to the doctor with piercing eyes. "_How could you have allowed this?_"

"Sir – ma'am – please," the doctor tried to reassure them. "We have our hospital staff investigating the matter; we're waiting for the police, no doubt they'll want to conduct their own investigation as well – we're doing all we can."

"But what _happened_?" Danny couldn't refrain from asking. "I mean, did he just walk out and no one noticed he was wearing a hospital gown…?"

"We're not exactly sure how it happened," the doctor clarified. "We're questioning all staff members present on the floor at the time."

The main doors to the hospital swung open and a group of well-dressed men Danny recognized as Vlad's lawyers marched in, gripping expensive-looking briefcases and thunderous expressions, and right behind them – Danny's heart jumped to his throat – two very familiar men dressed in white suits and dark sunglasses. "Oh, here we go," the doctor muttered to himself, hastily abandoning the Fentons to rush over to the approaching groups.

"What are you doing here?" Jack demanded when Agent O and Agent K crossed their paths, having brushed off the doctor to be picked at by Vlad's wolves.

"Not that it's any of your business," Agent O retorted just as rudely, "but we are investigating the disappearance of one Vlad Masters."

"I didn't know a missing person's case would be of interest to the Feds," Jazz sneered, her eyes drifting over their uniformed figures with obvious disdain, "or some ludicrous branch that wishes they were FBI, for that matter."

"The disappearance of a prominent figure under mysterious circumstances within a town riddled with paranormal activities? We got the orders to relieve the case from the local authorities as soon as word got back to the Pentagon," Agent K smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have nurses to interrogate."

"Those guys really burn me up," Maddie grumbled as they shoved their way through the circle the Fentons and Jasper had enclosed them in.

"Don't worry, mom," Jazz soothed, her eyes still trailing the two men as they walked away, "we'll get them on Saturday."

But Danny wasn't so sure a little student-led demonstration would carry much of an effect anymore. A man had vanished into thin air; the Guys in White were becoming all the more involved in the community, and now he was even less certain there was anything he could do about it.

He excused himself from the group, citing a need to stretch his legs, and made his way to the elevator, riding it up all the way to the level that Vlad had been placed in. A man couldn't simply disappear without a trace – unless he was a ghost. Was it possible that Vlad was still around but hiding? Danny rejected the idea almost as soon as it came. Vlad had given his ghost-half over to Danny; how could he still have retained any of his supernatural powers? Unless he hadn't surrendered over the Plasmius half – Danny's suspicious mind went into overdrive. He had entertained the idea that Vlad had been lying to him the entire time before, that the container the older man had passed over to him contained nothing, but those suspicions had faded over time as he had never dared to check for fear of the Plasmius soul inhabiting him if it were ever released.

An angry man's voice reached Danny's ears as soon as the doors to the elevator slid open; he decided it would probably be best to turn himself invisible and make his way around. He slipped past unnoticed by the large man berating a cowering orderly on the verge of tears and made his way into Vlad's room only to find the other agent frowning heavily as a small device in his hand crackled.

"K!" the first agent boomed, bursting into the room. "What's your status?"

Agent K turned to his partner and thrust out the arm that palmed the device. "The ectoplasmic reading on this thing is off the charts," he explained. "Whatever happened to Masters, there must have been a supernatural entity involved."

"Vindication," Agent O stated humorlessly. "Let's draw up the graphs and send the report over to headquarters."

"I still want to do a reading of the entire hospital," Agent K shook his head. "And you still have to question the rest of the staff."

"These idiots don't know anything," Agent O snapped. "It'd be a waste of time."

"Do you want to be the one to tell the President that?" Agent K pointed out. Danny rolled his eyes. He seriously doubted the President himself knew nor cared about what was going on in Amity Park, let alone be the one to authorize these goons to do as they pleased.

The two agents left the room grousing about the respective jobs, and Danny had himself turn visible again. The gears in his head started to turn. 'Off the charts', the agent had said; was it because he was in the room? Danny didn't think so – if that thing was meant to measure ectoplasmic energy, surely it would not assign such a high reading to one half-ghost that happened to be present at the time.

Danny stalked all the way back to the lobby where his family, Jasper, and the lawyers were chattering up storm, mulling over the suspicious reading the entire time. The receptionist grabbed a pen and rapped the desk hard with its end. "Quiet!" she snarled. "_This is a hospital!_"

"By the time we're through this hospital is going to have so many cut-backs, your patients will have to go to Africa to receive better treatment," one of the lawyers promised.

The elevator door slid open and the two beefy agents stormed up to the group, waving their device around. "This entire place is blanketed with ectoplasmic activity! We're shutting you down!"

"Don't be so stupid," the receptionist hissed. "We're not going to close down just because the Ghostbusters tell us to."

Agent K pulled out a cellphone and began tapping buttons furiously. "We'll see about this."

"What are you doing?" Agent O queried.

"Texting the Chief. This hospital needs to be quarantined."

"_Shut up!"_ one of the nurses howled as the group burst into loud conversation again. This only added to the noise. Danny distinctly began to feel as though he were in a zoo. Various people waiting to be admitted stared at the group curiously.

"I'm going home," he announced suddenly, catching the attentions of Jazz, Jasper and his parents. The conversation came to an abrupt halt as he pushed his way through the group of suited men, trying to reach the doors.

"Don't think this is over," one of the lawyers waved a threatening finger in the receptionist's face.

"We'll be back," Agent O added. "This ghost-infested city is going down, and this hospital is first in line!"

* * *

Danny didn't get one wink of sleep that night. The parting words from the Guys in White kept replaying in his head, along with intermittent questions about the ectoplasmic readings. He heard pots and pans and dishes cluttering around downstairs, which told him he wasn't the only one having a restless night; rather than join whomever was down there for an early breakfast, he opted to lie in bed and stare at his ceiling.

Around six-thirty, there was a knock on his door. "Danny, Dash and Tucker are here," Jazz informed him through the other side. "Your Senior Breakfast is today."

Danny had completely forgotten. With a sigh and a grunt, he pulled himself up to a sitting position and pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers and slipped on a simple white shirt. "Thanks, Jazz," he muttered as he exited.

Dash, Tucker and some guy Danny had seen around in several classes but whose name he had forgotten over the years were sitting on the couch, making what one could barely classify as small talk with Jasper. "Alright, let's go," Danny gestured as soon as he stepped in the room. The three sprung to their feet, bid goodbye to the other two and made their way out.

"So, where are we going?" Danny questioned.

"Amity General," Dash said. "We're picking up Kwan."

"His doctor gave him the okay?" Danny asked.

"No point in keeping him there anymore," Dash shrugged. "They can't find any reason to keep him there. His parents told me to pick him up from the hospital and bring him home after school."

The ride to the hospital was silent, with Danny sitting in the passenger seat and wondering if Tucker and the other guy – who'd introduced himself as Matthew – could feel the tension Danny was surely experiencing.

"Wait right here," Dash instructed, pulling to the curb right by the hospital's entrance. "Danny, why don't you get behind – Kwan will be more comfortable in the passenger seat."

'What about my comfort?' Danny wanted to ask, but complied with the request. Dash quickly strode in while Tucker and Matt made way for the new occupant. A couple of minutes later, Dash was out again with Kwan by his side.

"So where are we going?" Kwan repeated Danny's earlier question as soon as he slid in the passenger seat. Dash chuckled.

"You'll have to wait and see."

The landmarks grew increasingly familiar as Dash rolled through until finally…

"Your big surprise is the Nasty Burger?" Danny stared up at the familiar emblem and gigantic burger that sat atop the joint.

"No," Dash said significantly, "the surprise is _inside_."

Nonplussed, the four boys followed their leader into the establishment.

Danny jumped when he heard a clap of cheers and a chorus of _"Surprise!"_ ring throughout the eatery. Only then did he register a large banner hanging over the counter with the words _Welcome Back Kwan_ painted on it and streamers taped to the ceiling. Kwan seemed struck, and Dash slapped a hand to his back, a wide grin on his face. A bright flash told Danny someone had managed to capture on film the dumbstruck looks four out of the five boys wore.

A burst of jealousy bloomed inside Danny's chest, but he quashed it with a stern reminder that Dash and Kwan were only friends, that everyone wanted to celebrate having their football star among them again.

"We wanted to throw confetti, but the people here said we would have to clean it up, and that is so not happening," Star said adoringly cozying up to the Asian boy. Sam made her way over to Danny and Tucker, casting a disdainful look at the blonde girl. "Come on," she nodded over to a corner booth. "I'm going to need some coffee to get me through this party."

The three went off on their own unnoticed and bent their heads close as Danny hurriedly told them about the events at the hospital the previous night.

"You were there at the time?" Tucker asked. "Couldn't it have just been reading you?"

"I thought of that," Danny said, "but I'm just one ghost – half a ghost! Why would the reading be 'off the charts' just because of me?"

"Well, you are the GIW's Most Wanted," Sam pointed out.

Danny shook his head. "Later they said that the entire hospital was hot with ectoplamic energy."

"How is that possible?" Tucker frowned. "If there was a ghost around, you would have sensed it."

"Not if it were inhabiting someone," Danny reminded. He turned to give Kwan a suspicious glance. "I have a theory: Kwan was in the hospital last night, right?"

"But, Danny, you went inside him and checked for that ghost; you said there was nothing there," Sam argued.

"Well, maybe I missed it!" Danny half-shouted, half-whispered. "Look, I don't know what's going on, but I have to find out."

He jumped when he felt a strong hand clap his shoulder. "Come on, you guys, can't you be social for _once_?" Dash chided. "We're playing drinking games."

Danny, Sam and Tucker stared at him as though he was crazy. "You're playing drinking games? At seven in the morning?" Tucker echoed in disbelief.

"Paulina snuck out a bottle of whiskey," Dash told them smugly. "'Course, the most we can do right now without getting kicked out is turning our coffee Irish, but it will have to do."

Practically pulling Danny's arm out of its socket, Dash ushered him over to a crowded booth and pushed him in next to Kwan before sliding in as well and wrapping his arm over Danny's bony shoulders.

Tucker and Sam were still staring, but Danny had to admit, cushioned up against Dash's strong body and feeling the warmth of the boy's attentions, insisting that he join in on the celebrations, it was things like these that made him feel loved.

* * *

Author's Note: Okay, I know this is a ridiculously short chapter considering how long I've been gone and I'm so sorry about how long it's taken me to upload this chapter. My connection has been crazy lately, but I'm going to put in more effort in getting the next chapter up quicker. Thanks for reading, everyone!


	31. Everybody's Waiting For Judgment Day

Hi, there. It's been a while since I last wrote; I hope you still remember me. Every time I do this I wonder why I bother. It seems like such a waste of time. Then again, all it ever feels like I'm doing with my life is waste my time.

Do you still remember me? Some nights I lie awake thinking that I'm dead to you, just as I'm dead to all those who claim to admire me. Is that why my life has fallen apart at the seams? Was I the one who turned my back on you or were the one who did it to me?

I'm so scared, God. It feels like my problems are closing in on me with knives aimed at my throat and I can't do a thing to stop them; worse, it's as though I _won't_ do a thing to stop them. I'm so scared about what's going to happen to me, and the people I love, yet a part of me doesn't seem able to feel at all anymore, and the scariest thing is that that part is taking over.

There's so much I want to tell you, so much I need advice on, a helping hand that will never reach out. All I want_…_

* * *

Jazz Fenton smiled proudly as she surveyed the scene that stood before her. In the past six hours her team had managed to rig up a wooden stage with state-of-the-art speakers, a podium, posters, a stack of picket signs, lines of chairs for VIPs, and various bric-a-brac to toss out to the public she was certain would be positively enraptured by their campaigning.

"Jazz, can we stop now?" Danny whined in the background, collapsing onto his back on the dusty ground. "We've been going at it all night!" Sprawled around him were the nearly-comatose figures of Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley and Jasper Hedley. It was freezing out, the sun only just beginning to peek out over the horizon but all four of her comrades were sweltering as though it were mid-July.

"Well," Jazz considered uncertainly, "I suppose we could take an hour's break – but no longer! We still have to do a final run-through to make sure nothing goes wrong."

"Here's a suggestion: how about you do the final run-through, and we all go home and sleep?" Danny suggested indignantly. Jazz had, naturally, taken the role of 'supervisor', leaving the rest of them to set everything up for the morning's protest. Danny himself doubted whether anyone would bother waking up at 10 AM on a Saturday to witness Jazz blowing hot air once again. He wasn't sure, but he imagined the town heaved a collective sigh of relief when his sister decided studying out-of-state was the best course of action to fulfill her potential as one of the Future Blowhards of America.

"Oh Danny, such a kidder," Jazz brushed him off, digging into her pocket and pulling out a wad of bills. "Be a dear and go down to the Nasty Burger and get us some breakfast? With extra coffee for me."

"And me!" Sam enthused.

"And me," Jasper added lethargically.

"Uhhgghmmahaa…" Tucker groaned out.

Danny glared. When did he become the group's slave? Oh right, he reminded himself – since he became the only one to hold a valid license. Jazz herself had never seen the need, living in a small town like Amity Park where one could easily get around on their own two feet, and had maintained that as a college student, her funds were remained on a tight budget.

Still, there was something to be said about Amity Park in the dawn. The surreal life one experienced living in this town faded away to a near ethereal beauty in this twilight hour, when the world was only still opening its eyes and stretching out in bed. The birds were starting to chirp overhead, and the town was bathed in a faint blue glow.

Danny inhaled a deep breath, feeling at peace with the world. It wasn't easy, living his life, but it was moments like these that made it all worthwhile.

Parking just outside the Nasty Burger he was pleasantly surprised to find Dash's car further along. Recalling the feeling of being pressed up against the quarterback the previous day during senior breakfast, Danny felt a burst of something warm bloom inside him. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he imagined surprising the other boy inside. He could easily turn invisible, slip in, and sneak up behind the unsuspecting jock. It would be worth a laugh.

Getting out of the car, he proceeded to follow through with his plan, but froze when he found that Dash wasn't sitting at one of the tables outside the Nasty Burger by himself.

He was sitting with Mr. Lancer.

Startled, Danny crouched down behind an adjacent booth, the fact that he was completely invisible to everyone around him momentarily slipping his mind. Lancer was sipping on a small cup of coffee while Dash was scarfing down an order of pancakes, a Double Nasty Burger, fries, and a large soda. Danny stared in mindful disgust while Lancer watched with frank admiration.

"So how have you been?" Lancer broke the silence finally.

"Mmmph," Dash grunted in response, eyes still fixated on his meal.

"I trust your classes are going well?" Lancer edged. "Your finals are coming up soon."

Whatever it was that the vice principal was trying to get out of Dash, he wasn't budging. Dash simply gave a jerk of the head and went back to spreading cream on to the pancakes before him before slobbering maple syrup all over them. There was another moment of terse silence, and Danny couldn't help but wonder what it was all about. Why were Dash and Mr. Lancer sitting together at the Nasty Burger? Had they simply run into each other by mere coincidence and decided to keep each other company – no, Dash seemed to be doing his best to give Lancer the cold shoulder, something Danny was certain he wouldn't have done unless he were here unwillingly. Surely that meant they had agreed upon meeting then; or at least that Lancer had forced Dash to be there.

"Coach tells me that drills have been slowing down as of late," Lancer mentioned in an off-hand tone as though he were simply making conversation.

That did the trick. Dash set the plastic fork he had been using to tear into the soft dough down with a clatter and leveled Mr. Lancer with a glare.

"So?" he spat. "Football season is over. No one cares anymore. We must be the only school in the entire country to still be running drills right now."

"Completely untrue," Lancer replied. "All the best schools practice perpetually in order to keep their athletes in top condition – oh yes, Dash," he added when Dash let out a snort of disbelief. "And it's not just the high schools either. Playing football in college is going to be quite a challenge even to the brightest star … as would everything else involved in tertiary education. I am simply trying to prepare my students for what is to come. I know our method's may seem unusual to you, but I'm sure you would admit that Casper High is quite an unusual school?"

"Look, Mister Lancer—" Dash interjected, "You may think that all your propaganda will fly, and maybe it did with the press, but not with me. We both know that the only reason you keep us on the field is so that coach will have a job once football season is over because no one wants to try out for any sports. All we want to do is get in and get out before the school explodes in one of these ghost attacks."

Lancer heaved a deep sigh and hung his head. "Your suspicious nature has always been one of your strengths, Dash, but you instigate your fights with all the wrong people."

Lancer bowed forward, looking for all the world as though he meant to pierce Dash with his eyes alone. "How are things going on with your college applications?"

Dash crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, an indignant scowl marring his face. "Fine," he snapped.

"Mister Connor tells me that he's been having a lot of trouble getting you to cooperate with him through your application process."

"I thought counselors were supposed to maintain confidentiality with the students?" Dash fired .back.

"Dashiel!" Danny's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't heard anyone refer to Dash by his full name since the third grade. A dangerous sort of electricity crackled in the air. Mr. Lancer curled his fingers into a fist on the polished table. "You know that I only want what is best for you – I have made it abundantly clear that I think you have the potential to go far, but I no longer have the power to carry you forward. If you don't stand on your own two feet and start taking life seriously—"

"I don't know what else you want from me," Dash hissed suddenly. "You wanted me to become football captain and I did it; you wanted me to pick up my grades and I worked for it—"

"Yes," Lancer nodded slowly. "I gave you direction and you carried it out beautifully. I have never doubted your execution, Dash. You always took an order and ran with it as far as you could. But you can't be a pawn anymore. There are so few people out there who can truly call themselves leaders. I believe you can do it. But in order to do so, you must learn to start taking an interest in life instead of just faking it."

There was another tense moment of silence. Danny furrowed his eyebrows. What in the world were the two of them talking about? It seemed to go over his head. Dash Baxter did not fake interest; the Dash Baxter Danny knew always saw what he wanted and charged at it full force.

Lancer leaned back in his seat as well and took a sip of his coffee. Dash grabbed for his soda and suckled at the straw as if he were parched. Both seemed to settle down for a breather as though they'd just been for a round in a boxing match. Danny felt a little out of breath himself from the display.

"How have your sessions with Danny Fenton been going?" Lancer finally questioned. Danny's ears pricked up at the mention of his name.

Fire entered Dash's eyes again. "Fenton is fine," he snapped.

Another pause. "I must admit," Lancer said in a soft tone, "Danny Fenton has looked happier recently than I've seen him in years." Dash's grip on his soda tightened. Lancer raised his dark eyes to meet Dash's baby blue ones full-force. "But sometimes I crossed the border putting you two together."

Dash raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You?"

Lancer smiled slowly, wistfully. "Of course," he said. "When Mister Connor came in to my office with Danny's profile test, I knew you would be the perfect person to help him."

Danny was mystified. Lancer had brought them together? What could have possibly inspired him to do such a thing?

"I wondered why Alyssa picked me," Dash said slowly, as though he, too, was grappling with this revelation. "I thought she just wanted to boss me around. I'd just got done with a previous student…"

"I knew you'd feel out of place with the rest of the group."

"Then why did you put me in it?" Dash demanded sharply.

Another revelation. Danny had been under the impression that Dash had joined the group voluntarily. 'A backup', hadn't that been what he'd called it? In case football didn't work out for him.

"Dashiel, when you came to my office two years ago, I had a choice to make: I could have sent you along for counseling like I did all the other students who needed help coping; or I could let you help yourself. You said to me that day that you felt disconnected; that you didn't see the point in trying to maintain your quality of life. I recognized your apathy for the disease it was. I couldn't let your depression consume you."

Danny's mind was whirring. Dash – depressed? How was it possible? How was the guy who had spent their entire time together deriding his, Danny's, depression have been afflicted with the same condition? He recalled Dash's laid-back attitude towards school spirit; now that he thought about it, it did seem a little bit odd. Dash Baxter always appeared so pumped with spirit from afar. Only when they became friends over the past couple of months did Danny realize Dash's relaxed attitude towards his role as the king of Casper High.

He remembered all the days he had stopped by the football pitch only to find the players in a state of inaction; remembered Dash's resignation towards undoubtedly being Paulina's date to the prom; remembered the excited glint that had been in his eye suggesting Kwan would be a definite contender for Prom King. He had written it off as a case of senioritis, but now that he considered it … had Dash actually enjoyed his position within the Casper High student body? The way Lancer put it – it was almost as if Dash had unwillingly thrust himself into it. How? Why? Ever since Danny had been placed on 'assisted living' by having Dash as his mentor, ever since he had been presented with the idea that he could have, possibly, been depressed without even realizing it, Danny had felt weary to his bones? How had Dash managed to keep a smile on for two years without anyone even noticing that he might have been faking?

"It seemed to work so well," Lancer was saying. "I knew I made the right choice, recruiting you into the Peer Support Group. You looked down upon them, hated everything they stood for – didn't you?"

Dash was stirring his straw round and round the plastic cup. "I just … didn't see the point," he confessed, tossing his head back to land his eyes squarely on Mr. Lancer's face. "Of wallowing.

"You can do anything in your life," Dash continued, not taking a breath. "You can do anything to your body. What was I supposed to do? Sit in a corner and cut lines into my arm? Smoke my time away like the stoners? So I chose to stick to football."

"Yes," Lancer's face crept closer as he nodded. Danny had to strain to hear them now, leaning forward close to each other, speaking in progressively lower tones, as though sharing secrets. "Because you know what's out there. The life that is waiting for you once you leave Amity Park. And what you have to do to get there."

"Power," Dash answered. "To be as powerful as you can be. Looks – wit – brains."

"Disposition," Lancer nodded in agreement. "All those other students, the ones you hate—"

"Goths," Dash sneered, "losers. The ones who give up without even trying."

"Why?" Lancer urged. "Tell me why."

"Because they don't know what it's like to fight," Dash blurted out, looking surprised at himself. "Don't realize they're wasting so much time fighting the establishment, they never found a way to give the winning side a try."

"You can't stop progress," Lancer proposed. "Those who embrace it become the leaders, the playmakers of the world."

"The world loves me." Dash said boldly. "Look at me. I rule this school. I sat in that room, with those people, day after day, and listened to them cry about how life was so hard because they got dumped or their parents were giving them shit. I never wanted to be like that. Why waste my time fighting the world when I can get everyone to love me instead?"

"And what guts it took," Lancer said, a note of pride in his voice. "I sat and watched you grow up, Dash. Four years, I've watched you reach higher, further when all your fellow schoolmates fell short of the mark. I knew with the right prodding I could push you to be the best person that you could possibly be.

"And that's why it was such a gamble putting you with Danny Fenton," Lancer continued sadly.

Dash swallowed a sharp intake of breath. "You don't think Danny is good enough."

"No." For a second, Danny felt a knife pierce his gut. Then Lancer continued, "No, I don't think that; I think Danny Fenton is a boy with a lot to bear on his shoulders."

Danny pulled into himself a little. What was Lancer saying—?

"I've known Danny for as long as I've known you," the vice-principal was saying. "And yet I've never been able to read into him the way I could to you. Have you looked at him, Dash? At the way he holds himself? How he hunches forward, as though he's dragging along some burden? The way he looks over his shoulders? The way he disappears so completely when he doesn't want to be found, damn everything else? So many classes I've looked over to find his seat empty, and I just wonder."

Dash blinked. Danny knew the blond boy was trying to picture him in this context; he, Danny, was doing the very same thing in his own head. Was this what he looked like to the outside world?

"What are you saying?" Dash asked, nonplussed.

Lancer shook his head. "There was one point I thought, 'abuse?' But Danny's parents are as kind as can be. His sister, Jasmine – oh, I'm sure you know her – a pity she was too far ahead to get to know you better – I can tell you would like her very much; she's holds her beliefs in the same way you do. Always cheerful; always bright. I saw a lot of her inside of you." A fond smile came over Mr. Lancer's face. "I wondered if her unbreakable nature was just a façade; herself as whole as Danny was cracked? But in all the time I have known the Fentons, there was nothing that seemed to explain how damaged Danny is.

"I put you two together, Dash, because I thought that maybe you could get to him where I couldn't. Because in all the years I've known him, Dash, I have never understood what it is that haunts Danny Fenton."

In sync, both men let out a musing huff. "You said it was a gamble," Dash reminded after a moment.

"Oh, indeed," Lancer claimed. "I put you two together, hoping that it would be you that would pull him up – at the risk of him being the one who pulled you down."

"What?" Dash reared backwards a little, as though slapped.

"You both were so different," Lancer mused. "One bright and sunny. Secure in the knowledge that life held good things if only you put in the work for it. The other, dark and brooding. Never seeming to know where to aim in life, just stumbling through day by day, almost as if guided by a sense of foreboding. Here, at last, was something that could bond you two together, but it had to be done right."

"And?" Dash prodded.

"I'm sorry to say, Dash," Lancer sighed, "I wouldn't have done it if I knew what the outcome was going to be." He fixed Dash with sincere eyes. "You did your best with Danny, no one can say you didn't try – but Dashiel – it's time to move on. You tried; but nothing was going to unhook Danny from the anchor tied to his neck. It's time … to cut your losses. Let Danny Fenton go. Focus on yourself now, for your sake. You are not going to be the one to save him."

Neither of them appeared to know what to say after this. Dash, looking halfway beyond stunned and stoic, raised himself up slowly and tossed a couple of bills down on the table.

"I gotta get going. Thanks for breakfast, Mister Lancer," and made his way out the diner, Mr. Lancer looking after his retreating form with morose eyes.

* * *

Danny drove back to the protest site completely numb of emotion. He supposed he should have been angry at Lancer, livid as the twisted view of the world he and Dash shared. Treating the emotionally distraught as though they were so much trash, to be nudged aside like they didn't matter, to achieve success in life.

But really – could he blame them for cherishing a certain view that helped them get through the day? He couldn't say he didn't understand where they were coming from; it was clear that the popular, well-liked image Dash cultivated over the years had opened doors for him; really, all he learned from the conversation was that it had all apparently been an act.

An act. Here, Danny felt his stomach clench. How had he – how had _anyone_ – not noticed Dash suffered from depression? Little by little, all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together. Dash's strange devotion to sticking to Danny as he went through the program; the way he didn't seem to care about anything regarding school anymore.

How was he supposed to feel about all this?

"Oh, Danny, excellent," Jazz jumped to her feet when he returned to the group. "We were starting to wonder where you were. Where's the coffee?"

Danny didn't bother answering her. He simply pulled out the wad of bills she had given him and pressed them into her hand and glanced meaningfully at Sam and Tucker, who seemed to sense his mental discord.

"Er – Jazz we'll be back later," Sam said quickly. "We just realized we forgot something at, um, my house," she raised her eyebrows at Jazz in a significant manner.

"Oh – I – well, alright," Jazz stammered, "just, um, try to be back in time for the protest. We need to present a … unified front." She threw her brother a concerned glance as the three clambered into the car.

They remained in silence for a long time. Finally, Sam ventured carefully, "Danny, what happened?"

Danny shook his head, indicating he was not ready to talk just yet. He didn't know if he would ever be able to put to words what he was feeling right then.

He pressed his foot harder against the pedal. Without thinking, he led them straight to the parking lot of Casper High. Danny could feel the confusion radiating off his two companions, he was not entirely sure why he brought them there either; all he knew was that he needed a quiet place to ruminate. Casper High seemed not only a good choice, but almost poetic in a way.

Like good friends would, Sam and Tucker kept their questions to themselves and sat in silence watching the sun rise high over the roof of the school.

* * *

"Danny," Sam said quietly after some time. "We've got to leave soon."

Danny raised his head from where it was leaning along the crook of his arm, pressed against the window, feeling as though he were coming out of a deep sleep. He had spent over an hour simply gazing out at the school, not really thinking anything, lost in an undefined world. Sam and Tucker had made little noise except to shift their body and slowly rearrange themselves as they got used to their positions.

He considered saying something to them: 'thank you', perhaps, for putting up with his neurosis; for being there for him; or maybe something poignant and observant about how they would soon be left without the safety of high school, plunged in the real world.

In the end, he said nothing, just turned the key jammed in the ignition and backed out, back on to the street.

The sun was shining bright high amongst the clouds by now as Danny drove back to the campaign spot. Sam and Tucker hesitated.

"Are you coming?" Tucker pried.

Danny put some serious consideration in skipping the entire event and just waiting in his car. But no, Jazz needed him. Jazz, who had never failed him before – he had to show his support, for her. Nodding resolutely, he pushed his way out of the car.

They were pleasantly surprised to find a sizable crowd milling about waiting for the protests to begin. Danny knew many of the residents of Amity Park resented the government's invasion, but he had underestimated the level of irritation one could inspire in suburbia. He caught sight of Mr. Lancer and averted his eyes, his cheeks flaming. He didn't dare search out for Dash, no matter how tempted he was to scan the crowd further.

Jazz flashed the three teens a smile as they took their place next to Jack and Maddie Fenton, who were standing a respectable distance away before returning focus to Jasper, bowing their heads together and conferring in hurried whispers. Danny eyed several cameramen and news reporters going over their respective duties before they filming their segment. He had to admit, Jazz had done one hell of a job putting all this together for their benefit. Danny was certain he couldn't have pulled off such a coup.

Finally, Jazz straightened up and stepped on to the podium, dazzling the crowd with a perfected grin. Cheers arose as the crowd's attention shifted on to her.

"Okay, well, thank you every one, for coming down today and showing your support," the elder Fenton sibling began. "I was kind of hoping for an appearance by our unexpected guests – or should I say uninvited pests?" An appreciative murmur of laughter went up, and Jazz looked gratified her joke went over well.

"We all know why we're here today: to protest the presence of these so-called government officials in our town!" she pumped her fist in the air. "And I think the message is clear: no more Guys in White!"

A round of applause.

"We're tired of having our privacy invaded! Tired of seeing the suits monitoring everyone in town! Tired of…" Jazz faltered. Danny noticed it too. A sudden shift had overtaken the news reporters, who were now busily clacking away at their phones. A few cameramen had actually begun to disassemble their equipment. In return, the audience started chattering amongst themselves, voicing their confusion over what was going on. "Hey!" Jazz waved her hands trying to win back their attention to no avail.

"Breaking news today here in Amity Park," one reporter was stating to the camera, paying no heed to Jazz or the crowd gathered around her. "We have just been informed of suspicious activity occurring in the estate of missing former mayor, Vlad Masters…"

That caught Danny's attention. He darted a quick look at his parents, who had also started at the mention of Vlad's name. He exchanged wide-eyed looks with Sam and Tucker. The members of the media had started to abandon the protest site, jumping into vans bearing the logos of local television networks and speeding off to the location in question.

Danny, Sam and Tucker ran off in the direction of Danny's car. There was no chance of beating anyone there, but at least they could see first-hand what was going on.

It seemed everyone else shared the same idea, for soon Danny was furiously maneuvering his car to flit in between traffic on the way to Vlad's former residence.

There was already a large crowd assembling outside the gates by the time they managed to find a proper parking spot. Jack and Maddie materialized shortly after the trio arrived on the scene.

The crowd was paying rapt attention to the reporters who were grimly dictating into the camera the events unfolding.

"Two members of the governmental program, agents known as the Guys in White, have been discovered inside the mansion of former mayor Vlad Masters," one was saying, while another claimed, "…both agents are reported to be comatose…"

Danny felt Sam's grip his hand tightly as words such as 'unresponsive', 'fear the worst', and 'mysterious occurrences' flew about.

Suddenly there was a large uproar. Danny's eyes flicked upwards to the doors of the mansion, which he saw swing open before the figures of several Guys in White step out slowly handling a gurney between them. Resting on the gurney was one of the agents deemed comatose, followed by another selection of agents carrying out another non-responsive agent to load into a waiting vehicle.

"Breaking news once again here outside the mansion of Vlad Masters," Danny heard one reporter crow.

"—Grim spectacle for all to see—"

"—question that remains, what could have possibly taken place this morning to have led to such an outcome—"

"At least now we know why the Guys in White weren't at the protest," Tucker commented weakly.

"Breaking news now as yet more of the story comes to light," their attention shifted to one reporter from Channel 10, who was pressing on his earpiece. "We have just received word that former mayor Vlad Masters _has been found_—"

Danny gaped. Had Vlad been hiding in his own house the entire time? Had there been some sort of confrontation between him and the Guys in White?

Suddenly everything went quiet, the unnatural sort of hush that descended over a waiting crowd. As though he were in a dream, Danny watched in stupefied horror as one more agent came walking out of the front doors delicately holding on to an apparatus bearing a ghastly sight.

Vlad Masters had certainly been found.

And on that miniature apparatus carefully held in the hands of an agent was his decapitated head, rotten and decaying, severed from the rest of his body, the only part that was left of Danny's old rival.

_

* * *

_

_There's so much I want to tell you, so much I need advice on, a helping hand that will never reach out._

_All I want is to be free._

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note: **Did I honestly leave you all hanging for over a year? What must you all think of me? That is simply inexcusable, and I completely understand the hatred you must all feel. I took a long, long break from this story, this story had grew wildly out of control to become an epic like I've never dreamed it would. I couldn't possibly give this story up without seeing through to the end, but I know that in the time it took me to come out with this latest chapter, you guys would have lost interest and moved on.

To all the people who stayed and reviewed and favorite'd and alert-ed this story to your profile, thank you from the deepest recesses of my heart. This story is my baby and you have all helped me nourish it. I had to get some distance from this story in the past year as life got in the way, lots of life changes, but I could never possibly abandon this story. We're so close! Don't quote me on this, but right now, I'm going to say, we have maybe a little over five chapters to go before this story reaches it's ultimate climax.

It's amazing to me to consider that this story is actually meant to span three months in Danny Fenton's life. At one point, I was dedicating one chapter to detail the events of each and every single day, which was getting far too tedious to keep up with, especially when one considers that things can't be happening to him _every day_. That's one of the reasons why this chapter took so unbelievably long to come out – a few months break was all fine and good, but considering how long it took me before I could come back to this story, I knew I couldn't simply pick up where I left off again. Too much time has passed, too many ideas have been juggled. We're going to speed up a bit from this point on. That's why I added the letter to God at the beginning and end of this chapter, so that it could be read as though the character was recounting the events of that one day from a future point in time.

Funny thing about the letter: I wrote it down at the beginning with Danny in mind as the author of the note, but after that scene between Lancer and Dash (which is a relatively new idea, honestly), I kind of got the notion, reaching the end of the chapter, that it kind of leaves the question as to who is actually narrating the letter a bit more open-ended. Is it Danny, wanting a way out of this situation – or could it possibly be Dash vying for a way to express his own emotional problems?

Like I said, the scene between Lancer and Dash is new, but I knew that I wanted to do something to express how Dash is feeling in this story because in my opinion, he came off as really OOC so far, and I wanted something to tie him back to Hartman's depiction in the series to what he's become now. Originally, I was thinking that I would simply have Danny stumble in on them after school, but then realized if I wanted it to occur in this chapter, I would have to fit it to a Saturday schedule; and really, I'm glad I did. I had planned for what sort of things I wanted to Dash and Lancer to say to each other, which did ultimately come out, but placing them in the Nasty Burger, talking to each other one-on-one, the conversation came out a bit more … honest … than it would have if I'd gone through with my original plan of setting them at Casper High. This chapter, although not perfect, was probably the hardest piece I've ever written in my life. As a result, I think it came out a lot more poetic than I'd originally expected it to.

Please review and let me know what you think – once again, my sincerest apologies for making you all wait this long. I'm glad to see the DP fandom is actually very much active, as I see new fics posted almost every day. A sign of a true classic. And don't worry, I fully intend to bring us to the very end. Happy new year to all of you, and full steam ahead for 2010!


	32. This Empty House

It truly was amazing, the effects the death of one public person could bear on one community. Back when he was alive, Vlad Masters straddled the line between love and hate – for every one person that favored him, there was another one who wished him gone. In life, he had never been an overly popular man, just an overly privileged one.

In death, there was not one person who did not grieve for his loss. Danny turned this concept over and over in his head with a bitter smile up in his room. Clutched in his hands was the container Vlad had passed on to him – the one that currently held the Plasmius soul; no, Danny no longer had any doubts as to whether or not the box held any actual matter; it was clear to him, had Vlad still retained his ghost half, he would not have met such a gruesome fate.

Jasper had been unceremoniously kicked out of his room; Danny glared contemptuously at the intruder's half-opened suitcase with several items of clothing strewn upon the floor around it. He had locked himself in the sanctuary of his bedroom for nearly twenty four hours now, since he returned from the scene outside Vlad's mansion. No one had called him out to dinner.

Danny wasn't completely sure what to feel; he had never seen eye-to-eye with Vlad, and he often resented the older man's presence in his life – but never had he thought that anyone could meet such an ugly end to their life, and the sheer abruptness of it all had left him feeling a little bit winded. One day, Vlad had been there, in the hospital and settling Danny's medical bill, and the next, he had vanished into thin air. The next anyone in Amity Park had seen of Vlad was only a fleeting glimpse during the media circus gathered outside his gates just hours before.

And what _had_ he been doing at the hospital anyway? Danny recalled the clean cut he had noticed on Vlad's arm, the reaction the older man had displayed when he enquired about it. Danny was certain there was something suspicious going on there.

Finally, he could ignore his rumbling stomach no longer, and decided to grace the rest of his family with his presence at the dinner table.

What he didn't expect, though, was to see his parents sitting on the couch surrounded by a group of men in suits. Danny recognized them immediately as Vlad's lawyers who had come to FentonWorks to dispense legal advice a few weeks ago. Every single one of them looked trouble.

His mother caught sight of him first. "Oh, sweetie, you're here. Good. There's some leftovers in the fridge – no one ate much, so there's a lot to choose from."

"What's going on?" Danny voiced.

Maddie got to her feet, ushering him out the living room. "It's nothing, sweetie. The men just wanted to come discuss the terms of Vlad's will with us. It looks like he's left all his money to … well, to me," she admitted. Danny turned around sharply and stared at her. He knew Vlad had always had feelings for his mom, but to leave her his entire fortune?

"So, are you going to take it?"

Maddie wrinkled her nose. "Personally, I don't think we need it – it's a little strange that he never mentioned your father … but nothing will come out of it, sweetheart, you see – there's a little … disparity."

"A disparity?" Danny echoed.

Maddie seemed genuinely uncomfortable now. "Well, it would seem that Vlad recently had his will updated. The money is eligible to us and someone he calls 'The Little Badger'."

Danny froze. "'The what'?"

"'The Little Badger'," Maddie repeated, browsing through the refrigerator to find something suitable to give her hunger-worn son. "The problem is, his lawyers have no idea who Vlad means. So, like I said, until they get this issue resolved – and I don't see how they will – Vlad's money is completely tied up."

Danny accepted a bowl of cold chicken and beans without registering it. Vlad had left his money to Maddie … and him? But why had Vlad addressed Danny by his own private nickname if he wanted him to have the money?

"Didn't his lawyers tell him he couldn't do that?" Danny exclaimed.

Maddie sighed. "Well, the thing of it is – apparently, he can. Vlad brought in his own witnesses who claimed he was lucid and of sound mind at the time he redid the will. In order to release any money, they would need some way to identify who this 'Little Badger' is. And they came here hoping that we would know."

She grabbed her set of fancy glassware and began pouring cold drinks into them. "Don't stay up too late, dear," she said, turning back to her guests. "Remember, you have school tomorrow."

Danny raced upstairs and locked himself inside his room before logging online, relieved to find both Sam and Tucker were there as well.

_You guys are not going to believe who's here,_ he punched the keys on his board furiously.

_Vlad?_ Tucker responded immediately. _That'd be pretty unbelievable, considering_.

Danny quickly related everything his mother had just told him and waited for them to comment.

_If Vlad wants you to have his money_, Sam responded, _why would he risk you not inheriting it over a technicality?_

_Vlad's not stupid_, Danny stated. _Whatever he wants, he plans for. There's only one reason I can think of that would explain this._

_Which is?_ Tucker asked.

_It means that he needs me to do something for him,_ Danny replied. _He knew whatever killed him off would require investigation, and he wanted me to do something about it_.

_You mean, as in, stop the government from investigating?_ Tucker posed.

_Maybe…_ Danny paused, trying to assemble his thoughts on the matter. _My mom did say that Vlad had only recently changed his will. It must have been after the Guys in White showed up. Maybe he wants me to stop them from looking to deeply into his death._

_Or maybe,_ Sam reasoned, _he wants you to do some investigating of your own_.

That did make sense. Danny's brain clicked as he realized what Sam was hinting at. _Oh man,_ he groaned. _You don't mean…?_

_Oh, yes_, he could practically see the devilish grin on the girl's face.

_We're going to Vlad's place, aren't we? _Tucker added mournfully.

* * *

The architecture of Vlad Masters mansion was a sight to behold. It seemed to Danny that it changed with the atmosphere of the times. To him, he knew only doom and dread lay in store, being Vlad's archnemesis, but even he could appreciate the beauty its exterior presented.

Vlad's mansion stood tall and proud against the gleaming horizon of Amity Park. During his time in power as Amity Park's mayor, his home had shined like a beacon of hope, that good things awaited the scared and desperate people of Amity Park. In his failure, it leaned ominously against a grey sky, a mark of failure blighted on the very town. In Danny's eyes, the house had always been a taunting figure, Vlad's way of highlighting the way in which he had simply steamrolled into town. Now, the building just looked … wrong. Robbed of an owner, it had no place left in this town; the other abodes it had dwarfed now made it seem clumsy and gargantuan, entirely too big for this humble town.

"What an eyesore," Sam said ineloquently.

The three of them simply stood there and gazed up at the brick palace for a moment, a mark of respect or a sign of their awe at the sheer size of it, Danny didn't know. Tucker had been of the opinion that it would be too creepy to enter the mansion at night so soon after Vlad's violent death, to which Danny wholeheartedly agreed. Sam, however, had misinterpreted this to mean that they ought to leave _immediately_ so as to get there before sunset. The other two, secure in the knowledge that they were powerless to change Sam's mind to follow through on a prospect she was excited about, simply trudged along behind her.

"Well boys," she said cheerfully now, "let's get a move on. Wouldn't want Tuck here wetting his pants before we get in."

Tucker glared but said nothing in response. They ducked behind a rather large bush, and Danny held on to his friends with either hand. There was no doubt that the Guys in White were watching the house – from a safe distance – after the events that had transpired the previous day. Willing himself intangible, they passed harmlessly through the wrought-iron gates and up the gentle slope to the manor.

Only once they were inside did Danny and his friends materialize again.

Danny didn't know what he expected; overturned furniture, holes in the wall, prized possessions smashed to pieces on the floor – any of those would have been fine. But the house and everything in it seemed to be … immaculate. Danny opened his mouth to say something, make some comment, but nothing came out. It was as if the atmosphere inside the house was too heavy for sound to escape.

Slowly three pairs of hands parted from one another and each person made a solitary exploration of the room. It was infinitely creepy, Danny decided, touching something that only a few days before had been held by Vlad. His fingers brushed almost reverently over a small portrait of the man staring smugly down at his audience in a smart black suit. It made Danny smile. No photographs for Vlad – it was first-class all the way.

He tapped Sam's arm, silently telling her to keep watch for any Guys in White who may have been roaming about while he investigated other rooms. From the hall to the living room, which Danny noticed did not contain a television – 'Why watch the news when you can make it instead?' he recalled Vlad telling him once. It was strange; back then, the words had only served to irritate Danny, just another way for Vlad to boast about how highly he held himself over the common man; now, they filled him with a dull ache, a reminder that he would never again hear such asinine words of wisdom

Blinking away images of an imaginary flat-screen, Danny stepped past the overstuffed couches and entered into what was undoubtedly the library. Instead of walls, three sides of this room were lined by built-in shelves, each row stuffed with a leather-bound journal of some kind. A ladder fitted with wheels was positioned against one shelf, and in the center of the room were two uncomfortable-looking brown armchairs and a small circular round table with a lamp on it. How melodramatic could one get? Danny sifted through the many volumes, none of the titles catching in his memory. Whatever Vlad's intentions were, Danny was certain they did not include him sitting down and poring over these dusty old things. If Danny knew Vlad the way he thought, he found it hard to believe the elder half-ghost spent much time doing the same. Vlad was all about the show, but did very little to keep up a charade if he could help it.

The next room he found himself in was the bedroom. Danny knew the moment he entered that it had to belong to Vlad due to the sheer size of it. The canopy bed with royal red sheets and gold trimmings were a dead giveaway. Danny guffawed, the first real sound he had made since entering the house. If Vlad were here today, he would never have let the man live this one down. Not even Paulina had curtains around her bed.

Vlad clearly had a taste for the old-fashioned, but Danny was unsurprised to find a walk-in closet lined with very stylish outfits for the modern man. Black had been Vlad's favorite color, but as Danny fingered a beautiful piece that felt as though it was made of material finer than silk, he thought that it would bring out his eyes in a very nice way.

His cellphone buzzed in his pocked and, panicked, he fumbled it out and hastily went clicked on to his inbox, fearing that the Guys in White had burst in with guns blazing. Instead, he found Tucker wanting to know what it was they were even looking for. Danny himself had no idea, so he pushed the device back without responding and left the bedroom.

Over the next half hour, Danny came across several living rooms – none of which contained a TV – six bathrooms, a kitchen three times the size allocated to the home economics class in school, a grand dining hall, a _ballroom_ – and yet, oddly enough, Danny didn't recall ever seeing a second bedroom. How strange it must have been, to surround oneself in all this splendor, yet to be dedicated to a life of isolation. Danny couldn't understand it, and he didn't want to. The more he poked around in Vlad's house, the more he learned of the loneliness imposed on such a lifestyle. If it had been him, Danny was sure he would have gone mad from the echoes.

He sighed. All this effort had proven to be a waste of time. He was no closer to finding out what Vlad had required of him than he had been when his mother made mention of it earlier that day. Still, Danny reflected, he had gained a newfound appreciation for his old nemesis. He would never like Vlad, he supposed, but perhaps now learning about the hunger that drove him to do the things he did was enough. He pushed a door open and found himself, to some surprise, in a beautiful garden. The sun had long since faded, and there were few stars hanging in the sky. The grass was wet and the crickets chirped lazily. Danny toed off his shoes and stuffed his socks into them, and stepped out into the dew.

The second his feet touched the grass, he almost wished he had stayed inside the house. A chill descended over him, unnatural and nothing to do with the warm breeze blowing his way. He gasped, gagged, and fell to his knees, struggling for air and wishing for it to stop piercing his lungs as the same time. His fingers curled into shaky fists.

There had only been a handful of times he'd ever felt this way.

The blue mist that was forced out of his mouth was ragged and raw.

There was a very powerful presence here.

He felt rather than heard the heavy footstep that landed just before his prone figure. Trembling, Danny raised his eyes upward, heart sinking with every inch he took in. Strong black armor, darker than any form of pitch darkness Danny had ever experienced before ran upwards to support a massive frame. The most frightening part about the experience wasn't even the gleaming sword pointed several centimeters from his face, but staring into green eyes, encapsulated by a helmet, drawing him in like a vortex.

"Up."

The sword drew back, and Danny shakily got to his feet. No sooner as he had positioned himself upright did he find himself at sword point again. The Fright Knight began to circle slowly, blocking the only means of escape, and Danny had no choice but to slowly move in rhythm. The knight stepped forward, and Danny only backed away in time, darting backwards as the imposing figure advanced.

Those devastating eyes narrowed. "I know your face," the Fright Knight said in a calculative tone. "What do you here?"

"I – I—" Danny huffed, his heart beating wildly. He wildly thought about transforming, but he knew, he knew, that doing so would get him killed. "I—"

"Speak!" Purple flame erupted upon the armored ghost. Danny reared his head back.

"I – Vlad sent me," Danny blurted out. Where had _that_ come from?

The Fright Knight did not budge. "You are the one he said would come." Danny breathed a sigh of relief as the sword was lowered from his throat, then stiffened again.

"He – he said that I would come?" Danny stammered. "Who's 'he'?"

The Fright Knight was stalking away now, and stated baldly, "Plasmius."

Danny stood there in shock. Vlad had told the Fright Knight he would come? He was completely and utterly lost.

The Fright Knight paused then in the middle of the magnificent garden. Danny took a hesitant step forward. "Vlad – Plasmius – told you I was coming?"

"He said that it was all part of the plan," the Fright Knight informed.

"The … the plan?"

"The plan," the Fright Knight said. "The plan to end his life."

Danny felt the world spin. "Vlad set a plan … to end his life?" he muttered faintly, almost as though to himself. "I don't – I don't understand. _What_ plan?"

"Plasmius has played his part," the Fright Knight told him. "He rests now, waiting for the blissful song of Heaven." The heavy armor shifted, and the Fright Knight threw out an arm, gesturing. "See, he has provided my role to play."

Danny stared, disbelieving, jaw hinged open, as the Fright Knight waved to a mound of earth peeking over a flat stretch of grass.

"You – you buried him," he said softly, tonelessly. "You … killed him?"

"So I did," the Fright Knight agreed, piercing him with his soulless eyes once again. "At his behest, I brought him to end."

If Danny thought he was confused before, he was simply stumbling around in the dark now. How could Vlad – how could _anyone_ – have planned such a thing? He had spent the last few hours grieving for a man lost to a fate he wouldn't have wished on anyone, and now he found out he had _asked_ for this?

"What did – what did you do?" Danny found himself asking almost involuntarily.

"I carried out with his instructions," the answer came back. "I severed his head with my sword and left it on the ground." Danny heard a whistling between his ears. "I lay his body unattached, and I slew it till it held no form."

Danny thought he was going to be sick. In his mind's eye he could see the Fright Knight tossing Vlad's body carelessly to the ground and mutilating it, piercing tender skin with the sharpened tip, until there was nothing left but minced flesh, unrecognizable, perverted, hideous to behold.

"And the…." Danny could barely force himself to continue, blinking the grotesque images out of his head, "The Guys in White?"

The Fright Knight exhaled, the noise ominous and foreboding. "They had no business here."

Danny didn't have to ask the specter to explain. He already knew what fate had befallen the two men who had been carted out of the house the previous day. His eyes drifted down to the gleaming sword clutched in the knight's grip. He already knew of the sword's power, of how it could run through a man and he wouldn't bleed, if the sword so wished, would just collapse with nary a scar, and how you would begin to feel cold, so cold, as though death's icy grip were rising up inside your own body. And then the delusions would begin, mad things, conjured up with a sole purpose to torment. He knew how you wanted to scream, and scream, and scream, but had not the power to flutter an eye.

"Why?" he had to ask. "Why would anyone ask for something like this?'

The Fright Knight's eyes widened in fury, and the flames that had been slowly simmering upon his form rose high, reaching for the stars. "That is not for you to know!" One swift movement, and the tip of the sword was pointed back at Danny's tender throat. "You stand here now only by the grace of Plasmius," the knight hissed lowly. "Were it not my freedom at stake, I would cut you down to my feet."

Danny backed away slowly. "Go now, soldier," the Fright Knight bade. "Never return, if you cherish your life. For if you do, I might not be so merciful in our next encounter." He drew back his sword, sheathing it, and waited. Stumblingly, Danny found himself at the door, daring to take one last peek at the malignant presence that inhabited the desecrated garden. Once inside, he pulled the heavy doors closed, falling back onto the cold stone that lined the floor and coughing out his lungs that still burned from the icy chill that had taken them.

"Danny!" he heard Sam cry out. Her heavy black army boots clod against the floor as she rushed to his side. "Danny, are you alright?"

"F – fine," Danny sputtered, pulling himself to sit up. He was immediately captured in a hacking cough again. Tucker pushed a glass of water into his hands worriedly, and Danny tipped his head back and downed it all in one.

"What happened?" Sam demanded.

"Nothing – come on, we've got to get out of here," Danny said quickly.

"But—"

"No, Sam, come on," he urged, getting unsteadily on to his feet. "Hurry!"

"What's your rush?" Tucker questioned. "What happened, man?"

But Danny shook his head. He didn't want to talk about it; he didn't want to think about it; all he cared about right now was getting as far away as possible from Vlad's manor. Hurtling himself forward, he braced his hand against the wall, cool to the touch. The entire way out of the estate, he could feel Sam and Tucker's concerned eyes boring into him. He kept his head down and marched forward, resolutely keeping the sickening images forced into his head by the Fright Knight's gruesome story at bay.

"Danny, maybe we should—" Sam started, but stopped when suddenly one side of the wall swiveled, taking an unsuspecting Danny, who hollered in surprise, on to the other side. Immediately, she and Tucker launched themselves against the cement, pounding their fists relentlessly against it. "Danny!" _Thud thud thud_. "Danny!"

Danny stepped backwards, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He heard the voices of his friends emanating faintly from the other side. "Danny!"

"I – I'm okay!" he reassured them loudly. "It was a trick wall."

"Where are you?" Sam questioned. "Can you find any way to get out?"

Danny turned around, taking in his surroundings. It was dark and he couldn't really make out where he was. What little light there was streamed in through the cracks that ran along the walls. Danny felt his way around until he finally found a switch. His eyes were flooded by a dim light when he flipped it on.

He was in a large cavernous room. The ceiling overhead was high and curved and there were several stalactites hanging downwards from various points, and Danny could see a few stalagmites decorating the corners of the room. Small puddles lay peacefully around the area, and Danny could hear the steady sound of water dripping down resonating from somewhere. For all its natural eeriness, the room contained some sophisticated pieces of machinery.

Up against the wall was a computer system even more advanced than the one that inhabited the basement of FentonWorks; to the left was a table, one that reminded Danny of Dr. Frankenstein resting his creation before bringing it to life, with restraints to be placed over the subject's wrists and ankles, and a longer one that ran along the width of the table where the subject's waistline would be. And in one darkened corner, Danny took a step closer, lay what Vlad believed to be the answers to all of life's mysteries. A swirling purple vortex, contained within a heavy doorframe made of steel, so much like the one that Jack and Maddie Fenton had spent twenty years or their lives to build. Danny swallowed, thinking of all the times when he had been unable to sleep and would creep downstairs to sit down in front of the portal in his own home, staring into its depth as he pondered. How many times had Vlad done the same thing? How many times had he tossed and turned on his magnificent bed and let himself in here, to sit down on the unforgiving sharp rocks that adorned this room, and just _watch_?

Danny turned away, and his eyebrows shot up as he noticed something he had failed to take inventory of before: a small photograph, housed within a simple wooden frame. Danny's heart thudded as he reached out and picked it up. Never in his years had he imagined Vlad possessing a keepsake such as this. He ran one index finger against the picture of the young girl with a mischievous smirk, black hair tied into a ponytail, silly red cap pulled over her head in an ill-fitting manner, and cerulean eyes just like his own staring back up at him.

All vestiges of the cold that had seeped into Danny's lungs evaporated. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a white, folded up sheet of paper as it dropped out of its hiding place behind the picture frame. He bent down and picked it up, carefully placing the photograph back where it had stood before, and unfolded the note.

_My dear Daniel_.

This was it.

Vlad had written this note. To him. Somehow, the silver-haired man had known that Danny would end up here.

_I have no doubt that it is you and you alone who have found this letter, and the first eyes since my own to read its contents. If you are reading this, then you know that I am dead, at long last, and that I have left you a little task which you have performed as exquisitely as I expected._

_I rest now, knowing that I have cleared my name in your memory. I don't know how much has been revealed to you, nor do I care, for all that matters to me is that if you are standing here now taking in these very words, then I am sure, I am certain, you have come to realize that my sacrifice was my own to make._

_Learn from the failings of others, young Daniel. Live not to make your own._

_We have come now to a satisfying end, and I still say, you will always be my little badger._

_Vladimir Masters_

* * *

"So this is it," Sam said, raising her eyes to meet Danny's. "This is what he wanted you to find."

"I don't understand it," Tucker confessed.

"Neither do I," Danny admitted. "Not completely at least. But Vlad was right – it was his sacrifice."

Sam shook her head. "I can't believe…" she said. "Can you imagine, planning to die in such a way?"

"No," Danny shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever be able to understand that. The way he did the things he did … not just the bad stuff, but even the ones that I can't explain no matter how I try. How he could have just … castrated himself." Because that's what he had done, Danny knew. To someone like him – to someone like _Vlad_ – willingly removing their ghost halves, something tied so inexplicably into the very core of who they were … it was incomprehensible.

Tucker placed a comforting hand on Danny's shoulder. "He was very strong," he said. "That's what I've learned coming here. I don't know anyone else who could have done things the way he insisted."

"Yeah," Danny nodded, gazing up at the towering monument left abandoned. "Yeah, you're right." He folded up the letter and tucked it into his pocket, reminding himself to hand it over to the proper authorities to handle later on. He wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulder, the other one over Tucker's, and together they began to walk away, back to their real lives. "And you know what? I think everything is going to be okay."

The warm breeze fluttered behind them in response.

* * *

  
**Author's Note:** One reviewer once told me that my writing style reminds her of her favorite author, JK Rowling. They said they hoped they hadn't offended me by that remark, and I would just like to say in response, that I could never take offense to someone who compares me to such a monumental author. Like many in my generation, I grew up reading the series. It's hard to believe it's been almost a decade since I picked up Goblet of Fire, which was the first book in the series that I read. I could hardly understand anything what with references to 'Quidditch' and 'Parseltongue', but what was obvious to me even then was that Rowling had an extremely good plot on her hands with that book, and my view on the fourth in the series is really reflected in this story, I think. You'll notice how I, in following her example, have followed the POV of the central character in the title and letting events unfold as through his eyes, rather than giving you guys a bird's eye view over everything happening.

This chapter isn't inspired so much by Goblet of Fire as it was the Half-Blood Prince though. I found it to be a great book and a breathtaking movie. I am completely over setting my stories during the nighttime (though I'll have to considering the nature of this series) because the HBP movie showed me just how gloomy and oppressive daylight can be when done right, and I think I managed to capture some of that in this chapter, where everything had been so unresolved in the middle of the day when they entered the mansion, and it was a pleasant surprise even to me to find that the ending of this chapter, which takes place once again during nightfall, was nice and … peaceful, in a way. I had the movie in mind when I wrote this chapter because I really wanted to evoke the same kind of atmosphere of sorrow that surrounded the entire movie, as though every character knew something bad was going to happen, but didn't know how to stop it.

Last year when I was contemplating about how to move this story forward from the stagnant rut it had got itself into, I considered revamping some of the characters to be darker than I had portrayed them earlier on in the story. In particular, I thought of making Skulker (who WILL be making future appearances) more stoic, but when I went back and read some of the earlier chapters, I realized it wouldn't work because I had already modeled him with the boisterous personality Hartman provided him with (most evident in Micro Management, in my opinion). Then I realized, duh. The Fright Knight was the perfect candidate for the more ominous stoic personality I had in mind, which worked out perfectly because I always knew I wanted him to be the one responsible for Vlad's demise in my fic. I remember a lot of speculation that the Fright Knight had turned on to Vlad's side after Reign Storm, and I knew early on that this was the only way I could make a character as significant as the Fright Knight repay his debt.

Anyway, all this rambling has led up to this one point that I want to make: this chapter, as a result, is very OOC. I did a little bit of a retcon from the original series in which Danny's ghost sense responds the same way whether he's facing Pariah Dark or the Box Ghost. For the purposes of this chapter alone, I decided it would make more sense for it to react more violently in the presence of powerful beings like the Fright Knight. As such, in this fic, Danny's ghost sense responds more to a ghost's power rather than to their presence.

Another aspect that has been changed: Vlad's mansion. I remember from the few glimpses we got of Vlad's house once he moved to Amity Park on the show that it is nothing like the way it's portrayed here. I believe in the show, he lived in more of a gated community on the rich side of town rather than having a huge estate all to himself like he does here? Nevertheless, I felt it worked in context of the fic. It's a real shame that Hartman felt he had to make Vlad's character so one-dimensional as the series continued. I probably would have done the same, considering, but the freedom of writing the story instead of illustrating it for a network is that I now get to give Vlad the same sort of treatment Rowling gave Snape, which is much more befitting for such a complicated and isolated character. I always enjoyed the episodes where Vlad was a misguided paternal figure to Danny more than the ones where he resorted to outright villainy. Vlad's mansion, including his 'Batcave', is a reflection of that, and I tried to describe it to be as gothic as it could possibly be to help along his transformation into a tragic figure. I may or may not have had Castlevania in my head when describing the house.

Please let me know what you thought about this chapter, I do love reading everything you guys have to say. I was so excited about your reviews last chapter, knowing you're all on this journey with me.


	33. You Can Make Me Whole Again

"It's prom week!"

All around Danny, signs of bereavement over the shocking events of the past weekend were beginning to fade, to be replaced by the excited buzz of students anticipating the long-awaited event topping their social calendar. Having managed to gain closure over Vlad's untimely demise, it was hard for Danny not to get swept up in the tides of good cheer himself. Though he had made no plans thus far, he was determined to put aside his frustrations and enjoy himself. It was time to feel happy again.

"So who are you taking with you?" Sam asked him when he closed his locker that Monday. Danny could see the effects all this prom talk had on her; the antisocial teenager walked with a renewed vigor, and could barely keep a grin off her face. Danny was quite sure her eyes had a certain sparkle about them too.

"Oh, I don't know," he said breezily. "I'll probably go stag."

Sam raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Going alone to the _prom_? I have to say, Danny, that takes a lot of guts."

Danny shrugged. "We usually go alone for these things, don't we?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "but prom?"

"Don't tell me you've got someone?" Danny shot her a wide-eyed look.

"Of course I do," a giddy look overcame the goth girl's face. "Winston said he would come down from Princeton on Saturday."

"Winston?" Danny said with some surprise. "You guys are still together?"

"I managed to do some fast talking after you and Tucker nearly broke his back," Sam said coolly. "Speaking of which, do you know who he's bringing?"

"Tuck?" Danny laughed. "Man, if Tucker managed to find himself a date, I will eat his hat."

Sam smirked. "Careful, Danny – you've never had a good track record with that particular threat."

The person benefiting the most from the approaching event was clearly Paulina; with the committee's dedication to creating the greatest prom night yet in the history of Casper High had all of them flitting back and forth to the girl for final approval on everything that went down.

Sam fumed in silence as the three of them watched the display in fascination in the cafeteria that afternoon. "It's so ridiculous," she said, stabbing at her lettuce unseeingly. "Little over a week ago they completely abandoned her because she advocated the Guys in White spying on us – and now it's like none of it ever happened."

"Yeah, well, that's teenagers for you," Tucker said sagely, stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. "Short attention spans, every single one of them."

"It's not even them who infuriate me the most," Sam continued as though he hadn't spoken. "It's _her_."

"Oh, there's a new one I haven't heard before," Danny quipped.

"_How_ can she act as if nothing happened? You would think that experiencing the unpopular side of high school would give some depth, some _insight_ – that's what always happens in the movies!" she slapped an open palm against the table.

"The band says that they won't have any transport until 10:30, which will be way too late," one complained, waving a pile of papers in her hands to grab the Latina's attention. "I would threaten to cancel their gig, but I don't think we can book someone else in time!"

Paulina heaved a put-upon sigh. "Tell them to get to the hotel and set up. We'll move them to the afterparty – and make sure you wring an extra hour out of them to make up for the inconvenience, no charge. Then put up signs to audition students to play for the prom. There must be _some_ talent hiding away in this hellhole." She took a sip of her coffee, made a face, and glared at another girl hovering by her side. "I told you I wanted a double tall non-fat half-caf extra hot latte with whipped cream, vanilla, hazelnut, almond and raspberry with extra foam and two packets of sweet 'n' low and one packet of Splenda topped with caramel sauce, dumbass. What the hell is _this_?"

"S – sorry, Paulina," the girl squeaked, fumbling with the hot Styrofoam cup tossed her way. "I can go back and get another one—"

But Paulina shifted her body so that it angled away from the girl, a clear indication that she was blanking her out. Danny winced at the harsh dismissal.

"She's a nightmare to put up with in drama class," Sam muttered.

"Paulina takes drama?" Danny asked curiously.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Of course Paulina takes drama. You don't think any possible ambition she could dredge up goes beyond wanting to be a model or an actress, do you? All she ever does is shoot through her lines like she's trying to get as many sentences out before losing her breath. It's awful."

"You know, that method always worked well for Katharine Hepburn," Tucker said mildly. Sam glowered.

Of all the nominees for the title of Prom Queen, Paulina was the only one who didn't seem to put any outward effort into gaining votes for the big night. Star had abandoned her initial method of tiptoeing around the other girl to quietly scrounge up support and could be seen frantically hanging up posters urging students to vote for her.

"Screw her," she said brashly when Danny asked her about it. "It's my senior year too – why _shouldn't_ I do all I can to end it on a positive note? All those years having to take a backseat to her … just because she had the fancier house, nicer clothes, bigger boobs – the day that she got breasts first was the day everything changed between us, but now, after all this time, we're finally on the same level again, and I am going to run with it all the way to the end."

"Um, I don't think you should talk that way if you want to get people to vote for you," Danny advised. "Maybe you try being a little bit nicer."

"You're a loser, Fenton," she said plainly. "I don't have to be nice to you. Vote Star!" she slapped a pin over his chest. Danny yelped as he felt cold unforgiving metal graze against his nipple.

While Star aimed for the jugular with posters of herself in her cheerleading outfit, an obvious attempt to play for the concept of team spirit that Casper High was so obviously missing these days, Eleanor Davis had gone for a different tactic.

"Nice poster," Danny couldn't help admiring. The rather mousy looking girl dazzled in an olden Southern Belle costume. Her normally straight hair had been teased to curls falling down her face, and makeup and digital rendering erased all signs of the small acne scars that marred her cheeks. Eleanor thanked him with a practiced giggle.

"I asked Antonio what he envisioned for the shoot, and he suggested a going for a more romantic aspect," she told him. "I thought it was so smart. Amity Park really does need a break from the doldrums of daily life. I think this school could really do with some sort of fantasy to escape from the hardships the students face every day, and I'm willing to provide that."

"Yeah, well, it's really good," Danny felt his face heating up as the girl ran her fingers against his arm.

"I'm really not like those other girls, Danny," she toyed with a fancy studded cross that hung around her neck, gazing at him through eyelids lowered invitingly. "Vote for me?"

"Sure," A flirtatious smile crept lazily on to his face. Who knew a little reinvention could make someone so hot?

"What do you think you're doing?"

Danny turned around and nearly jumped back at the sight that greeted him. Never had he seen such ire in the eyes of Paulina Sanchez. For a wild moment he thought that she was jealous that he was paying attention to another girl – but no, that was ridiculous. Then he remembered that Paulina was close friends with Dash, and that she was aware of his relationship with the jock.

But the Hispanic girl reached out and coiled her fingers around the fancy cross ornament decorating Eleanor's neck, ignoring the girl's cry of surprise and she pulled it forward to inspect it. "Why is it," Paulina began with barely suppressed rage, "that in all the years I've known you, I have never seen you wearing _this_ until now?"

"It – it was a present," Eleanor gasped.

"From who," Paulina sneered, "your photographer?"

"Paulina…" Danny started. Eleanor grasped the silver cross close to her chest when Paulina let go. "Why do you care?" she admonished. "It's mine!"

Paulina loomed over her and waved a long pointed finger in her face. "That cross," she snarled, "represents two thousand years of blood and suffering. You don't get to put it on to win votes for some stupid tiara." She rotated her arm so that both Danny and Eleanor were staring at the underside of her wrist where Danny was amazed to find, in green ink, a small tattoo of Jesus with his eyes closed and head held high as he hung from the cross.

"This – _means_ – something," Paulina continued in a loud, clear voice. "Got it?"

And then she straightened her back and marched off while a sea of students parted for her, gaping in disbelief over the display. Danny's eyes found a thunderstruck Sam standing next to an equally disbelieving Tucker by the lockers.

"Dude," Tucker said in a low voice when Danny slid up beside them, "I think Paulina just had some sort of breakdown."

The three friends gazed back to the spot where the incident had taken place, where Eleanor Davis was still standing, frozen, her hand clapped over her heart. Danny turned to Sam to make some comment, but frowned when he noticed the preoccupied look upon the goth girl's face as she fingered the underside of her wrist.

* * *

Sam was in a weird mood for the rest of the day. Danny watched from his periphery as Sam spent the next lesson alternately rubbing at her wrist and sneaking glances at the oblivious girl. Try as he might, Danny couldn't stop his own eyes from drifting to Dash's empty seat. Before his mind could contemplate on the athlete's whereabouts or ruminate on the conversation he had eavesdropped upon between him and Mr. Lancer, Danny would force himself to concentrate on the nattering teacher in front of him before once again turning his attention to Sam.

Drama was the last class of the day for Sam, so Danny bade her goodbye as he turned the opposite direction to his own classroom. Before entering, he turned back around one last time and was surprised to see Sam approach the popular girl and initiate one of their undoubtedly awkward conversations.

"Mister Fenton." Danny turned around to find Lancer standing at the edge of the doorway with a cocked eyebrow. Flushing, Danny hurried inside to find his seat.

Lancer turned to the chalkboard and began squiggling on it; Danny felt his eyes droop and his mind start to wander. Suddenly there was a loud rhythmic banging that jolted the students out of their reverie and caused Lancer to veer off-tangent in the middle of his diagram. The flimsy door flew open and the entire class stared as two burly men dressed in white suits and dark sunglasses stormed in.

"_Shantaram_!" Lancer growled exasperatedly. "If you don't mind, we're in the middle of a class—"

One of them held up a badge. "FBI, baldy," he stated. "We're here for Daniel Fenton."

Danny's eyes widened as all eyes turned to him.

"Daniel, I think you'd better go with these men," Lancer said after a moment's silence. "Don't make any trouble for yourself," he mumbled through barely-parted lips as Danny passed him, still shoving his textbook into his bag. Danny gave him a small grateful nod before being flanked by the two agents who escorted him out the class and led him through the school's entrance into a waiting van.

"Whatever you're going to do," he managed to say in a steady voice, "you'd better have spent a long time thinking about it first.

Neither man answered, opening the back of the surprisingly spacious vehicle. "Get in," one ordered. Danny glared mutely at him before complying, heaving himself inside and sitting down on one of the benches poking through either side of the van's walls. One after the other, both agents climbed in after him, the second one slamming the door shut behind him. Immediately, the van lurched forward. Danny sat in stony silence facing his two compatriots until he nearly fell over when the truck came to an abrupt halt.

Not missing a beat, the two agents jumped to their feet and threw the doors open again, and shoved him out. Danny stumbled and found himself outside Amity Park's police main police station. His mind flashed to the last time he had been here, presenting his statement for the officers to take down following Kwan's accident.

Whatever Danny expected to happen when he walked through those doors, he certainly did not expect his family to be involved. He blinked upon seeing the faces of Jack, Maddie, Jazz and Jasper and the stressful expressions they wore.

"What's going on?" he blurted dumbly.

Maddie glided over to wrap him in a hug. "It's going to be okay, sweetie. These men just want to ask a few questions…"

Danny didn't understand. He pulled away and stared in confusion into his mother's brimming eyes before darting to take in the uncomfortable look his father had and the way Jazz kept bringing her hands together into knots and pulling them apart again. No, he didn't understand at all.

"This way, Mister Fenton," one police officer gestured through another set of doors. "Our questioning rooms are right through here. You'll be attended to by Agent M and Agent N here…"

Maddie turned to the man. "We're going with him."

"We have to question him in private!" one of the Guys in White barked.

"I told you before and I'm telling you again – _no!_" Maddie seethed.

"That's right," Jack jumped in. "We're his parents and we're going with him."

The party turned to the ageing police officer for help. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Ordinarily, its procedure to question a suspect alone, but given the fact that he's a minor…" he offered.

That was all Maddie needed. She gripped Danny's arm tightly and said resolutely, "We're coming."

Jazz got to her feet hastily. "I'm coming too."

"No," Jack told her with an air of finality.

"We won't be long, sweetheart," Maddie said kindly. "You can stay here and keep Jasper company."

Jazz sank back down to her seat in disappointment, but didn't argue. Danny tried to silently question her about what was going on, but she kept her eyes on the floor and didn't look up.

"Come on," one of the men in suits snapped. "Let's get this over with."

They led Danny and his parents into one of the small, poorly-lit rooms enclosed by one-way windows and sat him down on one chair. One agent remained outside, watching the proceedings as they happened while another took the seat opposite Danny and bore down on him with his impenetrable sunglasses. Jack and Maddie stood on either side of their son, each placing a protective hand on his shoulder. Maddie solemnly requested that the officer remain in the room with them, and Danny was slightly comforted by the presence of the three adults. It was one thing facing the Guys in White as Danny Phantom; it was far more intimidating to be seated before one sneering contemptuously down at him in a small room as Danny Fenton.

The agent, an olive-skinned man who was most likely in his mid-thirties, Danny guessed, with a fine crop of dark hair adorning his head military-style, pulled out a small tape recorder and activated it before speaking directly into it in a low rumble, "Case number #50721: Daniel Josiah Fenton. Location: Amity Park Police Headquarters—"

"A proud all-American name for a proud all-American boy, too!" Jack interjected loudly, thumping Danny solidly on the back. The agent gave him a dirty look and set the recorder down on the table.

A grim silence settled over the room. Danny squirmed in his seat, hyperaware of the strong grips his parents had on his arms.

"Mister Fenton, please describe your relationship with one Vlad Masters," the agent stated.

Danny looked from his mother to his father. His mother gave him a small squeeze and his dad provided him with an encouraging smile.

"Um, he was best friends with my parents, I guess," Danny said, eyes shooting back to the tape recorder sitting a few inches away. "I didn't really know him that well."

"Really?" the agent said in a tone that clearly showed he didn't believe him. "In that case, Mister Fenton, would you care to explain why Mister Masters named _you_ as one of two beneficiaries to his fortune?"

Danny shrugged off his parents' hands, rubbing some feeling back into his shoulders. "I don't know," he said slowly, "he was an old rich guy. It'd only be normal for him to be a little eccentric."

The agent leaned forward, the dim lighting catching on his sunglasses. "_How_ eccentric?"

Danny stared. There was a pregnant pause brewing.

"Maybe it would be best for you to clarify your question?" the officer in the background suggested.

The agent pulled away, leaning back against his seat. "Fine."

"Mister Fenton, have you ever had sex with Vlad Masters?"

"_What?"_ Daniel shrieked.

The agent watched him coldly. "Answer the question, Mister Fenton."

"I – I – _no!_ How could you even think—" he turned his gaze on to his parents face. "Mom, dad – you guys don't honestly think—"

"Of course not, honey," Maddie glared at the man sitting before them. "This is just sick. I told you before, my son has always retained minimal contact with Vlad—"

"Then why is it that Mister Masters offered to pay your son's medical bill?" the agent slid forward a slip of paper. Maddie fell silent and picked it up, scanning over its contents.

"Danny, you were in the hospital?" she asked, surprised.

"The very same day Masters disappeared," the agent informed triumphantly. "He paid your son's medical bill hours before. Of course, Danny here didn't accept any sort of treatment, did you, son?" He leered. "These doctors sure do charge a heck of a lot for a simple consultation."

Danny clenched his hands into face. "I was careless in shop class," he lied. "The school nurse advised me to go to a doctor just as a precaution. It – was – nothing."

"Nothing," the agent repeated softly. "Maybe so; that still doesn't explain why you're entitled to half of a multi-billion dollar empire amassed by a man you 'retained minimal contact' with." He brought forward another slip of paper, one with creases upon it gained from having been folded up many times over. "I think you'd like to read this." He handed it over to Danny's father, who accepted it wordlessly. "And I think your wife would like to hear it too."

"'My dear Daniel'," Jack recited in a zombie-like tone. Danny shut his eyes, his face burning with humiliation. His lip trembled as his father continued to read the contents of the note out for all to hear. He wished he hadn't handed it over to the lawyers, wished that he had had the foresight to at least deliver it to them anonymously. "…still say, you will always be my little badger." Jack lowered his hand to his side mechanically.

"Well, now, if that isn't the sweetest thing these little ears ever did hear," the agent drawled, raising his arms to rest on the back of his head. Danny couldn't lift his face, couldn't bear to look at his parents, at anyone, or have them look at him in return. The agent smiled vindictively at Jack. "I'm sure you must have found it as odd as we did that Masters named your wife to inherit all his money in his will – but I simply _cannot imagine_ what must be running through your head now." He turned back and addressed Danny, "You wanna explain to us what that 'little task' you perform so exquisitely was all about, son?"

Shaking with fury, Danny raised himself to tower over the smirking man. "I don't have – to explain anything – to _you_," he hissed poisonously. "I don't _have_ – to defend myself – to you. Your little _vendetta_ – against my family – and my town – is _over_." There was so much he wanted to say; so much he wanted to do; but justifying his actions and his whereabouts, his _life_, would only serve to accomplish the needs of this vile piece of filth sitting before him.

He turned around and marched towards the door, his hunched figure providing only a hint of the murderous expression that twisted his face. "We're not finished," the agent called back.

"Yes, you are," Maddie said quietly. She leaned in towards the unperturbed man. "Like my son said, your agenda against my family is over. I am not going to sit idly by and let you pollute the minds of my neighbors any longer. You'd better believe the Fentons are going to fight back." She clasped her husband's hand in her own and together they went to join their son by the door.

"End transmission," the agent said quickly into the speakers, turning the tape recorder off and pocketing the device. "Oh Missus Fenton—" Maddie stilled, her back rigid. "Don't think we haven't got a few questions for you and your husband too. As a matter of fact, we expect an itemized list of all the inventions Vlad Masters commissioned the both of you to create. It'll be a big help when we conduct our searches of Axion Laboratories."

The three Fentons turned and leveled him their most hateful glare before Danny wrenched open the door and stomped out. Jack followed suit, and Agent M had just enough time to grace Maddie with a victorious smile before she slammed the door behind her as hard as she could.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Wow, where did all of that come from? This chapter was supposed to include an encounter with a ghost(s), of which I have a roster which I plan to introduce – or reintroduce in some cases – but the above scene turned out in such a way that I honestly thought adding them in now would rob this chapter of its intensity. Why, you ask, use a couple of OCs we don't care about instead of our beloved Agents O and K? They'll be coming soon, don't worry.

In the meantime, would anyone happen to know where I can watch the episode Frightmare? I haven't had the opportunity to see many of the third season's episodes (I don't know if you can tell, but Frostbite was a last-minute addition I threw on in one of the previous chapters just by mentioning his name), but I am really intrigued by the character Nocturne and would really like to have the chance to portray him, because he looks like he's one scary motherfucker. I need to get a gist of what he's like in order to do him justice though.

Hope to hear what you guys thought of this chapter; I quite like the way it turned out. And I think I have to say Paulina is my favorite character to write about. She is totally kickass.

Oh, and by the way, kindly disregard that goal I set for myself to end the story in five chapters or less; I think it's pretty obvious by now that's not going to happen. We'll probably end somewhere before 40 though.


	34. Phantasmagoria

The ride home from the police station was utterly silent. Danny was glad to notice his father's hand on top of his mother's on the clutch, but spent most of the time on the way back to FentonWorks staring out the window brooding darkly over the events that had transpired minutes ago.

Jazz broke the silence only once to hesitantly announce that Jasper and her had to return back to university to prepare for their final exams and would likely be leaving the next morning, a statement that went unacknowledged by the rest of the group. No one seemed ready to talk and Jazz couldn't bring herself to ask while stewing in the black mood that permeated the vehicle.

When they arrived home, Jack and Maddie immediately locked themselves in the basement in order to take stock of their inventory and separate their own inventions from those meant for Axion Laboratories. Danny remained in the living room, taking back the pullout bed in order to allow Jasper some time to pack up his belongings. Jazz retired to her room to do the same, and so Danny found himself in a house full of people, yet, watching at the white truck parked outside illuminated by an orange streetlight, completely alone.

He lay on the springy mattress that night, hands folded behind his head and staring unseeingly at the ceiling above, and let the rage he had been restraining on a leash cloud over his mind. What could he do, he wondered, to get back at the Guys in White? This went beyond simply sneaking into their van and finding out what they had on him and his family – he had to get them _out_ of Amity Park for all their sakes. But how?

His eyes had only just begun to slide shut when with a jolt he remembered the gun that Kwan had. Or Tyrant, rather – the gun he had taken from the Fentons' in order to fight against ghosts with Danny. Surely his parents would have noticed it was missing after running through a list of inventions they kept down in the basement. He had to get it back.

Tomorrow, while Kwan was at school, he would break into his room and search for it, he decided. There was nothing to be done about it now – his parents were still downstairs and he couldn't risk them coming up and finding their son missing in the middle of the night. That meant missing half of another school day he couldn't afford to skip out on. Danny quietly groaned. The demands were growing too much – he was getting stretched too thin.

Turning over on his side, there was nothing left to do to block out the negative thoughts but to close his eyes and drift off to sleep, yet sleep did not come easily. Danny remained still while his parents thudded upstairs and switched off the light before quietly going to their bedroom.

Danny turned over on his back again and resumed gazing mindlessly up at the ceiling, watching the shadows play on its canvas.

Jazz had said that she and Jasper were leaving in the morning. It was a sudden announcement on the whole, given that the family had been rather preoccupied throughout her visit to really enjoy her presence this time around, but Danny couldn't say he wasn't glad to see her go; having Jazz around was nice and all, but he only now realized that he simply could not afford to be distracted from his mission any longer. Though she had proven useful, Jazz had always been more of a hindrance than a help.

And Jasper – Danny wasn't sorry to him go one bit. The older boy had served only to irritate Danny since the day he arrived. Danny squirmed uncomfortably on the pullout mattress. It would be nice to have his bed back once the law student left, that was for sure.

It wasn't until the greyish hue the ceiling had taken on lightened into white that he realized the sun was up and that he hadn't gotten any sleep at all.

He had barely pulled himself out of bed before he heard light footsteps approaching the stairs. Maddie emerged dressed in full attire, and looked surprised to find her son awake so early. "Oh!" she let out upon finding Danny gazing out the window. "Morning, sweetheart," she greeted. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Yeah, mom," Danny gave her a wan smile.

Maddie nodded uncertainly, then hoisted her large handbag upon her shoulder and began rummaging through it. "I don't think we have any time to fix breakfast today, dear – your father and I are on our way to work, but there's cereal in the cupboard ... I'm not sure if the milk has gone bad or not, so be sure to smell it first – if it has, there are eggs in the fridge, and bread in the freezer which you can toast – I'm putting a fifty under the flower vase for when you get back home, for lunch, or in case we're not back in time for dinner—"

"I'll be fine, mom," Danny interrupted. Maddie emerged from the depths of the bag, looking surprise to find that she even had an audience. Before anything else could be said, Jack came bounding down the stairs looking like he had gotten about as much sleep as Danny had. He, too, appeared surprised to find his son awake.

"Hey, sport," he said carefully.

"Hi, dad," Danny responded in a falsely cheery voice.

Jack turned to Maddie. "You got the keys?"

Maddie pulled them out of her bag with a tight smile.

"Then let's go," Jack stated, striding out the door with one last glance toward Danny. His mother waved goodbye while pulling her black gloves on, and then they were gone.

There was still an hour left before Danny would typically start preparing to go to school – the same, he assumed, went for Kwan, and so, with nothing to do but wait, he decided to kill some time by going to the kitchen and checking out what was in the fridge.

The milk had gone bad. Danny wrinkled his nose and tossed the bottle into the garbage bin. He pulled out a loaf of bed from the freezer along with eggs and cheese. He also discovered that there were several slices of salmon left and decided to make the omelettes exotic.

He had only just finished cooking when Jazz strolled into the kitchen rubbing at her eyes blearily. She raised an eyebrow when she caught sight of the dishes Danny had lay on the table. "I see you've been busy," she commented dryly.

Danny shrugged carelessly, spreading butter on his toast before slobbering honey over it. "I couldn't sleep," he said. "There's coffee by the microwave."

Jazz immediately grabbed a cup and poured herself some before sitting down. Danny passed her a plate, and she accepted a piece of toast and cut out a slice of the omelettes. Danny took his usual seat across from her and the two siblings munched quietly on their breakfast for a few moments. Danny felt his sister's eyes bore into him, but kept his head down. He knew she was dying to ask about what had happened at the police station but he was simply not ready to talk about it. He didn't think he ever would be.

"Look, Jazz—" he started, intending to deflect her questions with sheer honesty, but Jazz interrupted him.

"Danny," she said slowly, stirring her coffee with her little finger, "you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." She raised her eyes to meet his, cerulean blue. "But I want you to know that if you have to keep secrets from everyone else ... you never have to keep secrets from me."

Danny was speechless. Of all the things he had expected her to say, that had not even come close. Jazz had always bore a strong presence on him; she was his older sister; she was frustrating, infuriating, she was larger than life. Throughout elementary school and straight on to high school, Danny had always found himself in the shadow of his bright and talented sister, and it had served to portray her as a mild annoyance in his eyes. He knew Jazz cared, had seen the things she had done for him once she had discovered his secret – but he had never seen such sheer honesty written on her face as he did now.

"I—" There was so much Danny wanted to say, so much he had been keeping to himself with no objective person to bear his heart to; the ever-growing distance he felt developing between his friendship with Sam and Tucker as they prepared to go to the schools of their dreams; the future he had robbed himself out of due to his sheer exhaustion in dealing with the whole matter; his involvement with Dash Baxter and the limbo they were now hanging in – and those were just the issues to start with. He was still not ready to consider, even to himself, his fears over what would happen to their parents marriage, that Vlad had finally found a way to tear Jack and Maddie apart; the claustrophobia the Guys in White had instilled in him as they drew in ever closer; the infuriating mystery surrounding the Ghost Zone that seemed to permeate all aspects of his life. Jazz leaned forwards expectantly.

"I really don't know what to tell you, Jazz," Danny said robotically. "There's nothing to talk about."

She pulled back, disappointment etched on her face for a moment before being wiped off by an accepting smile. "Okay, Danny," she said. "If you're sure."

The wound on Danny's torso throbbed.

"I'm sure."

Before awkwardness had a chance to settle in, Jasper walked through the door still yawning. "Man, what time is it?"

"Seven-ten," Jazz informed, glancing at her watch. Jasper groaned.

"Way, way too early," he muttered. "Got any coffee?"

"Over by the microwave," Jazz nodded in the aforementioned direction. "Eat up, and then we have to shower and load up our stuff in the car. Did you pack?"

"Last night," Jasper informed, pouring himself a cup. "I hope you did too, because you brought a ton of crap with you."

"I packed!" Jazz protested. "I may be bad when it comes to packing prior to the trip, but never when it's time to leave."

And so the three of them continued to eat the breakfast Danny prepared, the only sendoff Jazz would be receiving upon her departure. It truly was inconvenient timing; Danny knew that she would be back in a couple of weeks once her finals were over and done with, and they would be better able to enjoy their time together – and hopefully their parents would have more opportunity to appreciate Jazz's presence around the household again – but there was no way to shake off the rushed feeling of goodbye.

In the next hour, Danny meandered around the house, cleaning up after the two houseguests while they showered and packed up their final bits and articles of clothing. Eventually Jasper appeared dragging down a suitcase, and Danny went to assist him with the others.

Jazz glided out of the house while the two boys unceremoniously heaved the hefty pieces of luggage into the trunk of the car, wrapping a shawl around herself, eyes flicking to the white van across the street. Wordlessly the two siblings embraced. Jazz ran her hands up and down Danny's back, and Danny marvelled at how much taller he had grown over his sister. There were no goodbyes, no well wishes, no promises to see each other again soon. The two Fentons simply pulled back, Jazz gripping on to Danny's shoulders with a pinched look adorning her face. Danny smiled down at his sister, and she returned it. Then she slid into the passenger seat, and Jasper pulled out of the driveway.

Danny raised his arm as they drew further back. Jasper turned, and now he could see directly into Jazz's side of the car. She kept her eyes trained on him and pressed one hand to the windowpane, mirroring his gesture. Neither of them lowered their hands until Jasper crossed the street and turned the corner and they could no longer see each other.

Despite his earlier assurances that he needed Jazz out of the way, Danny's heart still broke when he stepped into an empty house.

* * *

There was little time to waste; school would be starting soon, and if Danny wanted to get the gun out of Kwan's house without missing too many of his classes, he would have to be quick about it. Soon after he bade farewell to Jazz, he grabbed his backpack and strolled out of the house in a casual fashion, throwing a dark look at the van parked across the street. Once he was certain he was out of the line of vision of the agents holed up in the vehicle, he transformed himself into his alter-ego and zoomed off in the direction of Kwan's house.

His timing, as it turned out, could not have been better; hiding in the bushes, Danny watched as Kwan leaned down to kiss his mother, a portly Asian woman with a short dark bob, on the cheek before heading off in the direction of Casper High. Kwan's mother returned to the house, and once Danny was sure Kwan was too far gone to risk suddenly coming back, he moved quickly, darting forwards and phasing through the front door.

Kwan's mother was humming to herself as she dusted various knick-knacks that decorated the surface of a shiny black piano that had been pushed against a wall. Danny stopped to watch for a moment. He didn't recall ever seeing his own mother taking such care with household chores. Sure, Maddie cleaned up around the house, though she was more likely to pander the tasks over to her children while she spent her time in the laboratory conducting various experiments and creating feats of engineering with her husband. The Fenton household contained a vacuum cleaner, but never an actual _feather duster_.

Silently he drifted past the unsuspecting woman upstairs to where the bedrooms were. He had been inside Kwan's bedroom once before, confronting the other boy when he had been overshadowed by a ghost, but he had been full of rage then and not paid proper attention to the details. It was only by luck that he had landed in Kwan's bedroom on the first go back then.

He stuck his head through one door and found himself looking round a large bedroom with a queen size bed. The room was rather simple, with a decent-sized television across the bed, a vanity dresser against one wall with innumerable cases of makeup and tubes of lipstick scattered across it. Danny spotted several pearls and other jewellery. There was a large closet built in to the wall adjacent to the bed, and an adjoining bathroom. This must have been the master bedroom belonging to Kwan's parents.

He pulled away. Directly behind him were two more rooms, side by side. He chose the one on the right first, and couldn't help but smile at what was inside

It was evident that this room belonged to a little girl – Kwan's sister. The walls were decorated by garish pink wallpaper; there were so many posters taped up that it looked as though the occupant had tried to drown out the girlish color. Danny noted with a raised eyebrow that a large portion of these posters included sports stars ranging from shirtless wrestlers to victorious soccer players. Clearly there was another jock in the family.

One desk situated next to the bed was almost entirely swallowed up by a large ancient desktop computer. Indeed there was so little space left that the girl had been given another desk, upon which lay strewn books and looseleaf papers, to study on.

Mud caked the floor, leading from the door all the way to the foot of the bed where a soccer ball had been placed, fouling up an already filthy-looking rug in the process. No doubt the girl's mother would be coming soon to clean up, and would likely proceed to Kwan's room in the process – which meant that Danny was on a time limit.

He pulled his head out of the door and without hesitation walked through the last remaining room. Immediately he recognized it for the room he had once barged into.

Kwan's room was far more serene that the one that had preceded it. The walls were painted a baby blue, which made Danny think of Dash's eyes. His heart tightened, but he shook his head and focused on his mission.

The bed was unmade, with the comforter hanging halfway on the mattress and lying on the floor. There were clothes tossed haphazardly all over the room. A football was balanced precariously on a shelf that held numerous gold and silver trophies. Danny's eyebrows shot up as he caught sight of a tuba hiding away in a nook directly underneath a large picture window. Who knew Kwan was a band geek? Perhaps the only area of the room that remained immaculate was the study desk which held a column of books at one corner and a black laptop stained with fingerprints at the very center.

Where would Kwan hide an ecto-gun, Danny wondered. But then, he considered as he took a step forward, it wasn't really Kwan who had acquired the gun, was it? He had been possessed by Tyrant at the time.

The closet was the most obvious location to begin his search. Danny reached out for it but drew back suddenly when a sharp pain shot up his foot. He clamped his lips together to keep from howling in pain, and bounced around on one foot, gripping his injured leg with both hands. Aggressively, he kicked away at the offending matter that had caused him such pain and rolled his eyes when he found that he had stubbed his toe on a pair of barbells that were hidden under a mountain of clothes. Typical.

Stepping gingerly over the set of weights, Danny approached the closet and threw the doors open.

Items of clothing arranged in no apparent accordance greeted him. Danny was quick to shuffle through drawers, finding rolls of socks, bundles of underwear, handheld game consoles, a spare cellphone, novels that looked like they had hardly ever been touched ... but no sign of an ectoplasmic gun.

Danny shut the closet disappointed. It was alright, he told himself; Tyrant would likely have taken more care than to hide such an incriminating object in such an obvious place. He pursed his lips. Where else could he have hidden it?

Danny spun around in a complete circle trying to spot a plausible area that could effectively keep a small ray gun out of sight from prying eyes. His gaze landed on top of the closet, and with a strike of inspiration, lifted himself off the ground, floating just high enough to peer over the top of the closet.

Nothing. Danny set himself down with a sinking heart. Just for good measure, he palmed his way around the study desk just in case the gun happened to be buried somewhere between the books, but came up empty.

Sighing, Danny threw himself down on to Kwan's surprisingly lumpy bed. All this effort for nothing. He had missed the final bell for sure, and all for what Just to learn that Kwan was the proud owner of a bunch of trophies and that at some point he had acquired a tuba.

The tuba.

Danny shot upright and turned to stare at the instrument tucked away between the wooden desk and the wall. With trembling fingers, he reached out and pulled the tuba close to his chest and gave it a careful shake. Something rattled within.

Hardly daring to breathe, Danny slowly overturned the tuba, listening to the clatter of whatever had been buried inside fall as the instrument's equilibrium changed. Then he once again rotated the angle of the tuba, and out of the rim fell the ecto-gun.

Danny jumped to his feet. He had almost expected it to be something else, but there it was staring up at him. He almost tossed away the tuba in his hands in excitement but remembered himself long enough to gently place it back where it belonged. Then he snatched up the weapon and, hearing the telltale signs of Kwan's mother coming up the stairs carrying what sounded like a mop and bucket from the effort she put in, turned intangible once more and flew out the closed window.

He was almost halfway back to FentonWorks when he paused and looked down contemplatively at the gun in his hands. His parents had spent the previous night itemizing all the inventions they had created in the basement – surely it would seem suspicious if they were to simply find it conveniently located on a shelf somewhere when they had failed to find it the previous night.

Danny shut his eyes tightly. This meant there was only one thing to do. He had to deliver this personally to Axion Laboratories.

Tightening his grip on the ecto-gun, Danny turned tail and headed in the opposite direction, sparing a glance for Casper High as he flew above it.

Axion Laboratories were located on the other side of town, and Danny had no doubt whatsoever that the Guys in White were staking it out just as heavily as they were the Fenton residence, and so he landed on the grassy knoll overlooking the emporium. Two rings of light enveloped him and once again Danny Fenton stood with his hair blowing in the wind.

Keeping an eye out for any agents that may be lurking in the vicinity, Danny attemtped to stroll up to the entrance nonchalantly, as though he spent every day walking by a highly-classified scientific factory that churned out weaponry on how to destroy ghosts.

The laboratory was firmly locked down. Danny wondered how he could get in. He usually tried staying as far away from Axion Labs as possible, and so was clueless as to the upgrades in security it may have received.

"Please key in access code," a neutral female voice resounded.

Danny blinked, taking notice of a small scanner in which one could type in a sequence of numbers as provided by a row of numbers. "Er..." Surely Vlad wouldn't have made it too difficult for a half-ghost to enter the building? He recalled spying on the older man conducting secret deals with ghosts within the bowels of the company on more than one occassion.

"If you are not an employee of Axion Laboratories or have not been granted an access code, please scan your guest pass," the voice instructed.

No help there. Danny took a quick glance of the area and, deciding that there was no immediate threat, pressed his body up against the steel door, willing his shoulder intangible, trying to slip in unnoticed, then quickly forced the rest of him through the barrier.

Danny dusted himself off with pride. If those Harry Potter kids could do it in the train station, so could he.

He wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he arrived in Axion Labs. The last time he had been in here was when he was fourteen years old, and back then, the laboratory had seemed frightening, intimidating.

Now, he found himself looking blankly at a white corridor with brown doors that somewhat reminded him of the narrow halls of Casper High. Sticking out above each door was a large bulb emitting a green glow and an electronic sign underneath that read in narrow red letters, 'CONDITION STERILE'.

He reached out for the knob to the first door on his left, but paused. What were the chances that laser guns would emerge out of the walls and fire at him the second he touched the door? Danny decided the safest course of action when in Axion Labs was to maintain a low profile at all times, which meant going intangible whenever possible.

He lifted his foot and pressed it through the wooden door.

Immediately a shrill alarm resounded throughout the corridor. Danny pulled his foot out, jumping in surprise at the sudden sound. The bulb overhead had changed from green to an angry red, and the sign below switched to declare 'CONDITION CONTAMINATED'.

He held his breath as the door was flung open and a man perhaps in his mid-thirties with auburn hair peered out. Apparently finding nothing of note, he rolled his eyes and yelled over his shoulder, "Eugene! The system's acting up again!"

Another man, bearded and significantly older than the first one, appeared, grumbling, "That's the third time this month! When are they gonna fix up this dump?"

"Don't ask me," the first man said in a condescending nasal voice. "I just work here."

"Yeah well," the other man, Eugene, threw a white lab coat over his shoulders, "you'd think that now that old man Masters is dead, they'd throw a little bit of that green our way."

The door hit the wall, piercing Danny's body in the process. Eugene shuffled out, still speaking to the other man loudly in order to be heard over the sqwacking alarm system. "After all, it is his company!"

The first man shook his head in response, grabbing hold of the doorknob and slamming the door shut behind him. Danny slipped quietly past.

Danny had wondered why none of the other employees had come rushing out during the disturbance, and found his answer when the door shut behind him. The rooms were completely soundproof. The only sign Danny could find that alerted the two men that the alarm had been set off was a slight buzzing noise, more of an irritation, like a mosquito that drifted too close to one's ear.

The first man crossed the room to take a seat on one side of a large grey table not unlike the ones installed in the science labs of Casper High. There were even sinks built in to them for easy access. The scientist hunched over a large while gun with instruments held delicately between his fingers and his tongue between his teeth while a frown of concentration marred his otherwise smooth face. While he fiddled with the weapon that lay before him, Danny took the time to notice his new surroundings.

Sunlight streamed in through the blinds that covered a large window. Fluorescent lights hummed pleasantly overhead. Danny spared a moment for the chalkboard filled with complicated mathematical equations that took up the space of one wall.

It was inexplicable, how different Axion seemed to him now. At fourteen, the lab had seemed to be a monstrous abomination of technology designed to rip him apart, leaving such a terrifying impression that he had tried to keep away at all costs. Either the laboratory had suffered some severe cutbacks in financial assistance, or Danny had merely grown up and found that the monsters under the bed were merely the shadows cast by the curtains billowing in the moonlight.

The door opened once again and the other man, Eugene, stalked in. "Next one is your turn," he warned the first man. "Brent was laying it in to me bad when I went in there."

The redhead snorted. "What does that son of a bitch do all day, anyway? _So sorry we interrupted your soap operas, Brent_," he mocked.

Eugene shook his head. "I don't know; I don't care; all I'm saying is, you're getting the next one."

The two men worked in silence for a few moments.

"I was talking with Hank over at Genetics the other day," the first man said. "He reckons they're close to replicating some ghost DNA."

"And what do they want to do with something like that?' Eugene didn't lift his eyes off the project. For that matter, neither did the other man.

"Got me," he replied. "Hank reckons they can use it to better understand what the heck these things are. Says they can get some kind of a vessel and fuse them together to make some sort of half-breed. You know, half-human, half-ghost."

Eugene snorted. "Yeah, and I bet they'd give it some stupid name like ... avatar or some bullshit like that." The two men let out a round of derisive laughter.

"So what did you say when he told you that?" Eugene questioned after they had calmed down.

The first man smirked. "What makes you think I said anything?"

"I've known you three years now – long enough to know that you never can keep your mouth shut if you know what's good for you," the older man said with a note of fondness in his voice. His younger counterpart chuckled.

"I told the asshole he'd better hurry up before I blow all the damn things out of the sky," he said honestly. "He said it was no problem, he'd just catch Danny Phantom."

Danny's ears pricked up at this.

Eugene snorted. "Danny Phantom. I'll be first in line to test out these new babies on him."

"Hey, the kid's alright," the first man protested. "Been doing a good enough job on this town for the past few years now, hasn't he? First name I heard of when I got off the bus back in the day."

"One minute he's protecting the town, next he's trying to toss some poor kid off a bridge," Eugene countered. "I'm not buying it. I say let's take him down, and the rest will follow. Get things back to normal, for better or worse."

"Good luck with that," the first man muttered. "I've been here three years now, and for what? To see these ghosts get tossed back where they came from, only to come back and terrorize us all again a few days later. Now they got us working on these Gen 2 guns and I gotta say, I'm not seeing the difference."

"Got me there," Eugene agreed. "I took the job because I figured, what the hell. It was new, it was exciting – I knew I wasn't gonna get much further in my own field. But now," he leaned back and stretched out his limbs, "now it's a different story. Or the same story, I don't know. All I know is, I'm tired of it. So I figure, I'll give it a couple more years – getting close to that time when they put guys like me out to pasture anyway. Once I've killed enough time, me and Angie are gonna head back to Georgia."

"Must be nice," the other man mused wistfully. "Something to work for, I guess. They pulled me out of nuclear power, got me with all these promises about how I'd be the one of the first in the field. Thought I'd be making a name for myself, you know? Said that they were getting the most promising minds – they had to because, really, who goes to college to study ghosts? Nobody – except for Jack Fenton."

"Fenton," Eugene sneered. "Biggest jackass if I ever saw one – thinks up amazing inventions, and carries them out, too – but still, a jackass. You heard those government tools are gonna be interrogating him tomorrow?"

"Oh man, don't tell me they're coming here," his compatriot groaned. "Those guys are such jerkwads. I'd put up with Fenton over them any day of the week."

"Not me," Eugene rebuffed. "Jack's a boob. At least with Masters, we had someone who knew the score. I'd sooner shoot myself in the head than trust him to keep me safe from a ghost attack."

Danny felt the back of his neck burn. Gritting his teeth, he managed to refrain himself from whacking the two men on the back of their heads. He'd had just about enough of this conversation, and blindly made his way back to the door.

His smirk was only slightly malicious when the alarm was set off once again. "Oh, for—" he heard Eugene exclaim as he passed through the door. "Marcus, it's your turn!"

Further into the recesses of Axion Danny went, and the more he saw of a crumbling empire. He had always thought of Vlad as a meticulous man; true, he did not excise more effort into maintaining a charade than he had to, only doing enough to provide a thin veneer to satisfy those who only cared to look no further beyond the surface, but a meticulous man nonetheless.

But now that he was gone, the tarnishes that stained his polished mantle began to grow ever more evident. In a way, his expedition through Axion Laboratories was almost as revealing to the character of a man Danny was only just beginning to realize he hardly ever knew, an enigma wrapped in a mystery, as his tour through his palatial mansion.

He watched with a mildly horrific fascination as rats scurried upon large pipes that ran overhead, cobwebs stringing through darkened corners that he would have never found in the welcoming atmosphere of Kwan's house, but appeared in abundance in Vlad's home and place of business.

Danny felt his earlier anger ebb away and give in to a sorrow that was all too familiar every time he thought of Vlad. It was clear the former half-ghost had never truly cared about this place, had used it simply as a way of maintaining his facade as one of the good guys – certainly invested less time once his tenure as mayor of Amity Park took over as his most important role – and while that was good news for Danny, he couldn't help but feel sad for all the people he had amassed here, under the false dreams of contribution, of making this world a better place, a dream never meant to pass. None of them had the prodigious skill of Jack and Maddie Fenton, none of the foresight his parents had been graced with enough to know where the war against ghostkind would lead.

They were just normal men led on by a sham.

Danny finally found Jack in one of the laboratories, not as primitive as many of the other rooms he had ventured into – it seemed that the Fenton couple held a high enough position within the organization to be granted less Spartan working spaces overall.

Maddie was nowhere to be found, but that was alright. Danny watched his father from a distance, punching figures into a calculator, frowning, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes before entering new digits in, factoring and returning to some new design mapped out on a blueprint, and felt a swell of something in his chest that he so rarely reserved for his father.

Pride.

Bumbling, oafish, and a downright pain he may be at times, there was no one quite as amazing, as dedicated to his passions as Jack Fenton. It was Maddie who caused Danny Phantom the greatest grief, with her unfailing aim and fierce determination to protect what she held dear from those whom she thought threatened it the most, but without Jack's initiative, without Jack's _obsessions_, Maddie Fenton would have gotten nowhere in the field.

Quietly, Danny deposited the small gun, tracing its curves and angles with one finger, thinking of the effort his father must have gone through in order to make this thing, this thing that another ghost had used in order to protect him, Danny, as though his own powers simply couldn't match up to it. With one last lingering look at Jack, Danny passed through the reinforced walls, and into cool air.

Though he had already missed at least three of his classes, Danny found he wasn't all too concerned anymore. Soaring through the air on the way back to Casper High, he knew that there was no morning wasted if you spent it learning, and he had just learned something no classroom could ever teach.

* * *

**Author's Note: **My exams are finally over, so I reckon I'll be able to update more often, at least until the new semester begins. This chapter had actually been written out a few weeks ago, soon after I published the previous chapter, but I refrained from posting it until after the exams because I wanted to give you guys adequate time to read the past three chapters which I posted one after the other in a short space of time. Then, unfortunately, my hard drive crashed and I was forced to rewrite it over the weekend.

This chapter originally contained an encounter with a certain ghost, which explains the chosen title, but I decided to leave it for the next instalment because I really enjoy the way this one ended. The original did not have the same contemplative tone Danny felt for Jack as the rewrite does, and I like the way it came about. Phantasmagoria is defined as a shifting of illusions, which I think really reflects Danny lifting Vlad's veil from his eyes and seeing his father for what he truly is, so I think it's appropriate enough. The encounter with the ghost, which I planned to happen in the previous chapter, will better serve to pad the next one I think.


	35. We Have No Ballads

Danny had witnessed Casper High's empty halls in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was only just beginning to rise; he had witnessed its empty halls in the late afternoon, when the sun was starting to set; but there was something thoroughly disconcerting about the experience of walking through the school's abandoned corridors in the hour remaining before lunch, when the students and staff members were all locked away behind closed doors and going about their business.

Rather than make a fool of himself by barging into class in the middle of a lesson, Danny opted to wait until the lunch break to rejoin the rest of the student body. He briefly pondered where to spend the remainder of his time. His eyes flitted to the library and Lancer's warning regarding the consequences of failure came back to him.

He smiled sardonically. What good would that do now? It was too late for him.

He contemplated hanging out by the bleachers at the football field, but wrote it off almost as soon as it had come to mind. The football pitch was in direct view of several classrooms on the west side of the building, and he had no doubt that Lancer would not hesitate to drag him off to class by the ear if he caught sight of the teen lounging around when he ought to have been in class.

With no other option, Danny decided to waste his time in the auditorium. It would give him a chance to be alone with his thoughts, with the added bonus of being shrouded in darkness. If he was lucky, he told himself, maybe he would be able to come up with some way to get the Guys in White out of Amity Park.

With that promise in mind, it was a bit off-putting to open the heavy doors to the auditorium and find that it was, indeed, currently in use. Danny was just about to back out when a familiar face caught his eye.

He slid into the vacant seat next to Sam and said, "Hey."

Sam, who had been engrossed in the scene before her, jumped slightly. "Danny?" she whispered. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"I came in late," Danny replied. "What's going on?"

The stage at the very front of the auditorium was dimmed, as was the rest of the room, with two spotlights shining down to intersect upon two figures. Danny could see a chubby boy with curly hair that was nearly orange in color down on one knee facing a beautiful girl sitting in a rocking chair. Danny furrowed his eyebrows.

"What are they doing?" he questioned. Sam held a finger to her lips and shushed him.

"It's their assignment," she told him in a low voice. "Every group had to come up with a script and act it out. Nathan and Paulina got paired together."

He felt Sam shift in her seat as she leaned forward and balanced her elbows on the backrest of the seat in front. "I take back what I said about her acting," she murmured. "Paulina's actually ... _really_ good."

Danny eyed his friend curiously. "She isn't doing anything," he pointed out.

"Yes, she is," Sam said. "They're playing newlyweds who are still decorating the house they just bought, but Nathan's fallen in love with someone else and he's trying to get Paulina to agree to a divorce."

Danny turned his attention back to the two players on the stage. Nathan was still on bended knee, his arm extended towards the Hispanic beauty, pleading his case, begging for her to understand his predicament. And Paulina ... Paulina simply sat in that rocking chair, going back and forth, back and forth, her eyes unfocused and unseeing, aimed at some distant place beyond her husband's mop of auburn hair.

Nathan got to his feet, finally, done pledging his remorse to a woman who didn't seem to care either way, and drifted past, into the darkness. The play ended when Paulina's hands, which had been tightly gripping the arms of the chair as she swayed in motion, fell limply to her sides.

The lights flooded back on, causing Danny to blink. Scattered applause resounded throughout the room. "Wonderful, you two," he heard a woman say. "I really felt the tension between the characters."

"Miss Tetslaff is the drama instructor?" he couldn't hide his surprise when he saw the burly woman a few rows ahead of where he and Sam were situated. He hadn't seen the teacher since junior year when he had chosen to forgo gym once it was relegated to an elective rather than a required unit.

Sam didn't reply; she was on her feet, clapping loudest of all. Danny stared, his jaw halfway parted. Sam caught his eye, slowing down the force with which she brought her hands together until finally breaking off with a blush.

"So what's our grade?" Nathan asked breathlessly, running a hand through the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead.

"'B-plus'," Tetslaff informed without taking her eyes off her clipboard. Nathan made a small sound of disappointment, but nodded.

"Don't worry," he assured Paulina. "Coupled with all the work we've done throughout the semester, I'm sure we'll both manage to pull 'A's."

"I'm just glad it's over with," Paulina said coolly, jumping off the ledge of the elevated stage. She tossed her backpack over her shoulder, holding on to it by only one strap and breezed past Tetslaff, who was calling for the final group to present their performance.

"Hey, Paulina," Sam called out as the Latina brushed past the two of them. Her eyes widened as though she didn't mean to actually say anything. Paulina paused, a look of surprise upon hearing the greeting on her face. "I thought you guys were great. You definitely deserved an 'A'."

Paulina shrugged. "Nathan did most of the work."

"No, seriously," Sam insisted. "Dialogue is fine and all, but a real actor knows how to carry themselves. Your reactions to his speech were what gave your script the edge."

Paulina blinked, then broke out into a warm smile. "Thanks, Sam," she said genuinely. "I was just on my way to get a venti seven-shot three-shot-decaf one-and-a-half-pump sugar-free amaretto hundred and seventy-five degree two percent seven Nutrasweet with whip extra caramel extra sprinkles caramel macchiato with a twist of lemon and chill out. You wanna come?"

"I ... don't know what that is," Sam said, "but I could go for some green tea."

Together the two girls left the auditorium, chatting a mile a minute about the other's drama performances. Danny stared after them long after the door had swung shut following their departure.

He kicked himself mentally. How could he have possibly forgotten that the school held the final exams for practical classes the week before the prom? His final submission for shop class was due this Thursday, and he still hadn't completed the clock he intended to showcase!

The vessel had been prepared already – but he had yet to hand it over to Tucker to fit in the mechanical parts that allowed it to work. Tucker, who no doubt was currently consumed with his own assignment for home economics and was likely to tell Danny that he had no time to help him out at this late date.

Danny slumped in his seat. Though he had only minutes ago admitted defeat to any possibility of graduating high school, it still made him feel awful to realize he had thrown away a perfectly good chance of getting through one of his classes.

He watched despondently as two boys got on the stage. Though they spoke in clear, ringing voices, their words seemed somehow garbled to Danny's ears. He sat back low in his chair with his hands lying lamely across his torso as the two players pranced about with overly large grins pasted on their faces; barely registering the embrace they enveloped each other in; falling further into himself even as one boy sauntered confidently past his comrade; and by the time one player pulled out a colourful toy gun and shot his partner in the spine, Danny was completely lost in his own dark world.

He came back to consciousness as the lights flipped on and scant applause was heard once again.

"Solid work," Ms. Testlaff said briskly. "You get a 'B'."

The two boys high fived each other, and it was this sound reverberating throughout the room that caused something to click inside Danny's brain. He hunched forward, resting his elbows against his lap, working his jaw broodingly. No, he wasn't simply going to give up. The world may have already beaten him as far as everybody else concerned, but that didn't mean Danny Fenton would go down without a fight. He knew even now that though one failure on his report card could keep him from graduating high school, he was not likely to find that he had failed all of his classes. Yes, it would hurt, but work hard enough and he could minimize the damage, perhaps even to the point where he would get the chance to remedy it in summer school. Such an opportunity would not be available to someone who failed every single class – but if he managed to fail only or two....

Well, it was something worth holding on to.

* * *

"I need your help," was the first thing Danny said as soon as he sat down at lunch that afternoon.

Tucker had been about to take a big bite of his meatloaf, but lowered his spork when his friend joined him at the table. "With what? And where were you all day? I didn't see you in homeroom."

"I was busy," Danny brushed the inquiry aside. He glanced over at the seat Sam usually took next toTucker. "Where's Sam?"

Tucker shrugged preparing to take a bite of his food. "Haven't seen her since this morning," he said.

That must mean Sam was still on her little date with Paulina, Danny concluded. It didn't sound like a bad idea – the grey walls of the school cafeteria was matched only by the grey sludge dripping off Tucker's meatloaf. "Let's go out," he said suddenly.

Tucker was once again forced to lower his spork. "I already bought lunch," he pointed out.

Danny sighed. The gloom of Casper High just did not fit his new He-Man approach tackling his problems. Which, he reminded himself, he had yet to expound on. "I need you to help me get my clock up and running before shop class on Thursday,"

Tucker, who had just been about to tear into his meatloaf, stopped and gaped at Danny. Danny flashed him what he hoped would be construed as a charming grin. "Please?"

"Danny, do you even know what you're asking me right now?" Tucker questioned.

"I'm asking for a favor," Danny replied in all seriousness.

"You're asking me to perform a miracle," Tucker corrected. "I couldn't make a clock in that time even if I were both German _and_ Swedish."

"Tuck, I am dangerously close to failing senior year," Danny implored. "I really need you to do this for me. Please?"

Tucker sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, Danny," he said slowly. "I'll try."

Danny smiled triumphantly. Despite Tucker's show of uncertainty, Danny knew he would stop at nothing to pull it off. Tucker was, first and foremost, a loyal friend.

Tucker had finally been granted the chance to dig into his lunch, and was now munching thoughtfully, his eyes surveying the cafeteria. He nodded to Danny with his head, his eyes focused on something just beyond his ear. "Dash seems a little put-out. What's up with that?"

Danny swivelled his head over to look. He hadn't seen Dash since the scene he had witnessed between the jock and Lancer at the Nasty Burger on Saturday.

There he sat, in the middle of the table occupied by the popular crowd. Amidst the cavorting jocks laughing and tossing food at one another, Dash stuck out like a wilting flower. He seemed to be staring – glaring, Danny noted – at nothing in particular, ignoring his friends with a scowl on his face daring them to question why. His square jaw was balanced upon his hands, which were clasped together, and his shoulders hunched forward, clad in the infamous Casper High letterman jacket.

"He looks the way you did last Saturday," Tucker commented. Danny turned his head back to his friend sharply. Tucker fixed his green eyes on Danny's. "Something happen between you two?"

Danny lowered his gaze to his own paltry sandwich lying face-up on the red plastic tray. "I don't know what you mean," he mumbled, picking up his food.

While he ate, he ruminated upon what he had just seen. He didn't dare think about what this might mean for him and Dash – chances were, Dash was simply having a bad day.

Rather, he focused on something else he had found strange about the view. "Where do you think Kwan is?" he voiced to Tucker.

Tucker paused in the middle of cutting another piece from his meatloaf. "I haven't seen him since homeroom either," he admitted. "Man, what is _with_ you guys? I feel like I'm the only senior who actually shows up anymore."

Danny opened his mouth to make a retort, but felt a hand curl over his shoulder before he got the chance to let any words out. Both he and Tucker raised their heads to see Jennifer, the cheerleader who had flirted with Danny during Paulina's party grinning down at the dark-haired boy.

"Danny!" she chirped. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"Um," Danny exchanged confused looks with Tucker, "hi."

"Hi," she drawled out. "Come with me, sugarplum. We're taking a walk."

With a surprisingly firm grip, she hauled him to his feet and led him out of the cafeteria. Danny was confused. He remembered the way Jennifer hung off his arm during Paulina's party, and wondered if perhaps she had come to ask him to the prom. But why, he wondered – back then Dash and he had barely been friends; wasn't it obvious from their behaviour in the cafeteria that they were no longer friends now?

Then again, Danny reminded himself, the nature of their relationship, for lack of better word, had only changed on Saturday. It was now Tuesday, and Dash had been absent on Monday, after all.

Jennifer took his hand, interlacing their fingers together, and Danny felt his heart rate speed up.

Silently they walked down the halls of Casper High. Danny trailed his fingers against the cool metal of the lockers against the wall closest to his side.

"Where – where are we going?" he had to ask.

Jennifer smiled mysteriously. "You'll see."

"So who are you bringing to the prom, Danny?"

Danny flushed. "I – er – haven't asked anyone yet," he admitted.

Jennifer turned wide eyes on him. "Seriously?"

_She's going to ask you out_, a voice inside him said. Danny's hands began to grow clammy.

"I've, uh, been waiting for the right person," he lied. Jennifer was attractive enough; if she did want to go with him, it might make the whole ordeal bearable enough. His heart pounded rapidly against his chest.

"Shame," Jennifer flipped her ponytail. "You're really cute, Danny."

Danny's throat went dry. "T – thanks," he rasped. "You're really cute too."

Jennifer's lips curved into a small smile.

They stopped in front of the gymnasium, and she released his hand to push the double doors open. Danny was stunned to find that they were not to be alone – the gym was bustling with boys and girls running around, bickering, and barking orders directing others to various parts of the room. Against one wall were two girls huffing impatiently with a boy setting up a camera on a tripod. Jennifer led him directly to this group.

"Finally!" one girl rolled her eyes upon catching sight of them, uncrossing her arms and placing them on her hips. "What took you so long?"

"Just enjoying the walk," Jennifer said easily. "Besides, he's here now."

"Um, what's going on?" Danny asked, feeling little thrown off by the unexpected twist his encounter with the cheerleader had taken. Jennifer turned to him, beaming.

"Danny, we need you to do a little favor for us," she said. "This," she gestured to the boy standing by the expensive-looking camera, "is your photoshoot."

"My ... photoshoot?" Danny repeated slowly.

"We're burning daylight here," the other boy interrupted before Jennifer could explain further. "Come on, I have to go to work after school."

"Fine, Barry," Jennifer said loudly, cutting him from saying anything else. She gave Danny a secretive roll of her eyes while the others arranged everything they would need in order. One of the girls took Danny's arm in a painful pinch and directed him over to a purple background hung over the wall with a short stool placed in front, and pushed his shoulder hard so that he sat down upon it.

Immediately, a series of flashes went off, nearly blinding the boy. Danny reared his head back, blinking rapidly, trying to regain his center. He shook his head in attempt to clear it and, hopefully, get rid of the flashes he saw behind his retinas.

"Jeez, Barry, give the guy a break," he heard Jennifer complain. "You didn't even give him a chance to get ready."

"Get ready for what?" Barry countered. "All he has to do is sit there."

Jennifer shook her head, muttering darkly, "This is why you're never going to get anywhere with that camera you blew your life savings on." When Danny finally managed to clear his eyes, he found the two glaring hatefully at each other.

Barry turned to him. "You ready or what, Fenton?" he snapped.

"Hang on – what am I even doing this for?" Danny held up his hand signalling a pause.

Barry rolled his eyes, bending over the camera and adjusting the framerate. "We like the way your face looks. We're gonna make you America's next top model," he sneered. The other two girls snickered.

Jennifer grabbed Barry by the arm, nearly knocking over the camera off its stand, and dragged him to an empty corner of the gym. Danny watched as she started yelling, hands clenched into fists tightly by her sides, her blond ponytail bobbing as she gestured wildly. Now he was yelling back, their words not reaching Danny's ears, but the effect remained the same. Danny felt something stir inside of him, gratified to see a girl actually fighting for him. For _him_.

"Don't mind Monroe," one of the girls consoled him. "He gets his period about every two weeks."

"Who are you voting for Prom Queen, Danny?" the other girl asked.

Danny shrugged. "Never really thought about it. Until today, I didn't even really think I'd go to the prom."

The two girls gasped violently, as though he had just revealed his plan to assassinate the mayor. "You're not going for the _prom_?" the first girl clapped a hand over her heart. "Who misses the _prom_?"

"Yeah, Danny," the other girl nodded. "That's the ultimate act of loserdom. There's no coming back from that."

Danny shrugged lethargically. There would be only one week of school after the prom before finals began anyway.

"Wait a minute," the second girl said suddenly, a thought having just occurred to her, "does this mean you haven't asked anyone yet?"

"Not even Sam Manson?" the first one added. "I thought you two were ... a thing."

"We're not," Danny rebuffed, not wanting to talk about it. Sam's rejection, though he understood why she felt the way she did, still stung. Dash's absence in his life became all the more apparent when he thought of how close Sam and he had come to realizing their potential.

The two girls shared a look with each other, then turned back to him. "So who are you gonna ask?" the first one inquired.

Danny sighed, frustrated. "I don't know," he said. "Like I said, I didn't think I would even be going to the prom until..." he turned back to where Jennifer and Barry were arguing, and was taken aback to find the two of them locked in a passionate embrace instead. He stared in disbelief as Barry ran his large hand up Jennifer's back, tangling through her hair until her ponytail came undone. Jennifer opened her mouth to grant his tongue access, clutching his forearms in what looked like a painful grip. Barry, however, seemed to feel no pain, moving his lips past hers and trailing down to her neck. Jennifer moaned, shifting her hands so that they brushed through his dark curls. "...today," Danny finished.

The first girl sighed heavily. "Great. Now we're gonna be here all day. There's no stopping them once they get like this."

There was a lull in the conversation as the three of them pretended not to watch the other two.

"I'm voting for Eleanor," the second girl volunteered.

The first gaped at her, aghast. "No way! Paulina is going to kill you for that!"

The girl giggled. "After the way she lost her shit yesterday? No one's going to vote for her. Besides," she grinned deviously, "that's what they have secret ballots for."

The two of them made high-pitched sounds of laughter. "Oh my God, I totally have to tell you about the dress I found on Saturday!" the first girl cried. The two of them pranced off, abandoning Danny to sit by himself on the uncomfortable stool.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched jealously as the two teenagers started to bring themselves back to reality. His heart blackened when they grinned toothily at each other while holding hands. Danny shuffled his foot against the leg of the stool, steadfastly trying to pretend he hadn't been paying attention as they made their way back to him.

Barry appeared considerably more cheerful this time. "Ready, Fenton?" he hunched over the camera, unable to keep the grin off his face. This time, Danny was ready when the flashes went off, but his demeanor caused Barry to raise himself upwards shortly after once again.

"For God's sake, Fenton, _smile_ a little, why don't you?" he chided. Danny glared darkly at him. Jennifer looked concerned by the sudden wave of hostility emanating from him but didn't say anything.

Danny and Barry found themselves silently locked in a battle of wills, each boy trying to stare the other down. Finally, Danny relented. What was the point? No one would go for him – not Sam, not Dash, and definitely not Jennifer.

Reluctantly, he pulled his lips apart, less of a smile than a baring of teeth, but Barry crouched over the camera stand and resumed shooting anyway. However, he soon found this unsatisfactory and emerged once more, rubbing at his temples.

"I know you don't know much about ac ting, Fenton," he said, "but I'm sure you at least know how to smile for the camera. Can you just get this done so we can all get out of here?" People were beginning to trickle out of the auditorium, having completed their own duties.

"I don't even know why I'm doing this in the first place," Danny said bitterly. Barry disappeared from sight again, and Danny was forced to take his words to heart. Repositioning himself on the stool, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

Something to smile about – what did he have to smile about? The government was threatening his family, the only other half-ghost in existence had committed a violent act of suicide right under his nose, Dash Baxter wasn't even _looking_ at him, there was a crazy new ghost hunter on his ass...

Unbidden images of a voluptuous girl with ebony skin and long cascading hair seeped into his mind. Danny's shoulders relaxed.

Valerie. Now they had made some good memories together. Their relationship had been work, no doubt, but it had been nowhere near as dramatic as what he had now with Dash. Sometimes it was hard for Danny to remember that he'd only gotten together with the jock some two months ago; they had been through so many ups and downs since then, it felt like they had been together for years.

But with Valerie, things had been nice and easy. True, that wasn't the case whenever she donned that red suit; they were two different people then – but when they got together, Danny Fenton and Valerie Gray, it was like nothing else. Unlike his relationship with Dash Baxter, there had been no bad times. They were just two souls bogged down by too much danger, too many responsibilities, and looking for someone who could simply make them feel at peace.

He remembered the way he would scoff at his peers, always seen crying their eyes out over the problems they created themselves, trying to emulate the glamorous shows on television that dictated what a relationship ought to be like. He and Valerie had enough problems to deal with; there was no point trying to heap more on each other.

His mind flew back to one specific event, the one that always seemed to encapsulate all the qualities of the relationship he shared with the girl: Valerie's last night in Amity Park. They had been fifteen years old, weary but bright-eyed, still in love with the adventures that presented themselves in their own individual lives. Damon Gray had told his daughter months beforehand that things weren't working out in Amity Park, and that they were going to start their lives fresh somewhere else. There were no tears; Danny was a little glum when she broke the news, but there had ample time to accept it. After all, a life without ghost-hunting was always a good thing, and he was glad Valerie was being given that opportunity.

They had come together that night, after a round of ghost-hunting. Danny had gleefully sailed over Amity Park, and Valerie had given chase with relish. Tired, worn, but aching beautifully, they met later on at a hill overlooking the town and spent the remainder of the night in each other's arms, sharing a pack of cigarettes, laughing, and kissing. There had been no attempts at sex; neither of them were ready at the time; Valerie hadn't offered and Danny hadn't asked. Instead they watched the stars twinkle and the sun rise, and Danny was sure he had never loved anyone more than he loved her.

A bright flash went off, jerking him back into the present. Barry emerged again, pulling the camera off its legs. "We got it," he informed. "Good work, Fenton. Must have been one hell of a memory."

Danny smiled softly. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it was." Jennifer wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's torso, drawing close with a proud look on her face.

"My little photographer," she cooed, gripping his pointed chin with her fingers and niggling it slightly. Barry shrugged her off, but couldn't keep the indignant look on his face for long. Danny watched their actions through half-lidded eyes, and realized he didn't feel jealous anymore, nor did he feel any pangs of loneliness. He just felt empty.

Shakily, he got to his feet, Jennifer and Barry to put away the stool and wall hanging. The halls were empty now, the students having returned to class after lunch. Walking unsteadily through the corridors, Danny didn't feel much like sitting in a classroom, knowing he wouldn't be paying attention to what was being said anyway. Funny how he had spent the day bitching about missing his classes and then failed to attend a single one once he made it to Casper High. Such was his life, he supposed.

He stumbled into the boys' bathroom on intending to freshen up after the experience he had just endured. The polished floors of the corridor gave way to the soggy blue tiles that paved the bathroom as he stepped through the doorframe.

Danny paused, his ears catching a strange small sound coming from one end of the room. Another followed, a breathy, stuttering noise. Danny realized that it was the sound of someone crying. Even as he told himself not to invade the boy's privacy, that he wouldn't want any of his schoolmates to find him crying the bathroom, he couldn't stop his feet from slowly moving towards the locked stall. He raised his hand to knock on the door, to ask if the boy on the other side was alright, but a particularly pathetic whimper stopped him.

Closing his eyes. Danny willed himself intangible, his feet disappearing from the other boy's line of sight in the process. Then he leaned forward, his head breaching through the partition of the door. He was surprised to find that the upset boy wasn't a stranger like he expected. It was Kwan, his feet drawn up, eyes red and puffy, and face tightly screwed. One hand shot up to swipe at a tear rolling down his cheek. Danny fought the impulse to ask Kwan what had happened.

He drew back, mind racing with possibilities, wondering if this was connected to the Asian boy's absence during lunch that day.

He was about to leave the bathroom when a flash of something caught his eye. His head darted to the direction of the disturbance, and Danny found himself staring at a mirror hanging over a sink lined up in a row. Nonplussed, he stepped closer, pressing his wrists against the cold porcelain, squinting at the image. As he was still intangible, his reflection remained unseen.

There! Danny jumped back when something grey slapped against the surface of the mirror on the other side. He blinked, and it was gone.

A sense of foreboding brewed within him. Casting one last glance to the locked stall where Kwan was still trying unsuccessfully to muffle his crying, Danny left the bathroom, his legs picking up speed as he went from walking to jogging to finally running down the halls, expecting something to jump out of the lockers blurring past.

The row of metallic green came back into sharp focus again as Danny was forced to veer off-course when one of them suddenly flew with a lound clanging sound. Immediately the row of lockers proceeding began to fly open of their own accord.

Waiting for a teacher to burst out of one of the classrooms to see what was going on, Danny turned invisible. When no one came, he crept slowly forward. The row of opened lockers stopped finally at a particularly rusted door, one that Danny remembered all too well. And there, standing before it with his head hung low, with the grey-toned apparition of Sidney Poindexter.

"...Poindexter?" Danny approached the figure, turning visible once more.

"Hello, halfa." The ghost greeted.

"What are you doing here?" Danny peered into the depths of the aged cabinet. It was empty save for a small broken mirror.

The transparent boy shook his head sadly, head still held low. "I thought..." he broke off with a sigh. "I _hoped_. I hoped to find a way."

"To find a way?" Danny echoed stupidly.

"A way to help aid my brethren," Sidney finally raised his head up, looking into the locker, ignoring Danny's curious gaze. Danny turned to stare at the mirror as well.

"You ... wanted to go into the mirror?" he ventured.

A hollow smile graced the other boy's lips. "Into the mirror? Yes, perhaps – a safe haven for all those trying to escape the dark."

"Sidney, you're scaring me," Danny admitted, staring at the ghost. "What's going on?" He knew the place of which the other boy spoke, a place frozen in time in which Sidney had vied to get away from for ages. Why now would he want to return?

"It's funny," Sidney was still fixated on the contents of his old locker, "how your world is coming together, while mine is falling apart."

Danny sneerd. "Coming together? You have no idea. You haven't seen."

"Seen the men of whom everybody fear?" Poindexter challenged. "Oh yes, I've seen them, policing your town in their white suits and silver guns, abducting whomever they think might be guilty, like that poor boy in the bathroom."

"What?" Danny's eyes widened. "They went after Kwan?"

"Oh, yes," Poindexter nodded. "I saw how they waited for him, under the trees, and the way they pulled him aside when no one was watching. They dragged him out and when he came back, he was destroyed. He hasn't been able to put himself back together since."

"And – and you did nothing?" Danny was outraged. This wasn't the Sidney he knew, the Sidney who stood up for what was right. "You watched him get bullied and just stood by?" he goaded, trying to incite some spark into the ghost floating defeatedly beside him.

"It seems," Sidney said tiredly, "that perhaps only the strong can be relied on in the end."

That stopped Danny short. He had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

"Something is coming, halfa," Poindexter continued. "Everybody is so scared, so desperate. I just wanted to find a way to alleviate their pain. But now..." he reached out, the tips of his fingers just touching the broken shards of the mirror hanging on the wall. "You do not know how fortunate you are, to have so many willing to take the lead, to fight your cause here; and you will never know until you find yourself with _no one_. That's the way it is now. I hoped to provide my brothers and sisters refuge. There is too much fear in the world."

Danny turned back to stare at the mirror, that broken mirror. Trying to piece together Poindexter's fragmented statements, he thought he understood. The place that mirror led to was unlike any other place that existed within the Ghost Zone. Whatever was coming, whatever it was that threatened life in Ghost Zone – Sidney had obviously been hoping to lead the others through that portal so that they could wait it out until the threat was gone. But with that mirror broken, there was no way whatsoever to return to the immortalized snapshot of Casper High that existed on the other side.

"I thought you hated the ghosts," Danny said quietly. "They bully you as much as those people back in high school did."

Sidney chuckled. "Hate them? When they welcome me so willingly into their open arms? No," he shook his head. "For the first time, for the first time, I _belong_. How could I ever live without them?"

"But they treat you so badly," Danny had witnessed before the kind of treatment Poindexter suffered in the Ghost Zone. Perhaps it was not as cruel as the perpetual state of bullying he had endured trapped behind the mirror, but— "they treat you like a possession!" He was thinking of the way Skulker seemed to consider Poindexter, in all his wide-eyed awe, as nothing more than a lackey.

"You always love the ones you're with," Sidney stated. "Like you, with your friends, and your family, and that boy, the one you let into your life."

Danny knew he was talking about Dash. "I don't," he turned his gaze away, lowering his eyelids. "I hate him." It was true. He had seen into Dash's psyche that morning at the Nasty Burger, Dash's _soul_, and it repulsed him.

For the first time during this encounter, Sidney looked straight at him. "Life is too short for hatred."

Poindexter was acting now, reaching up behind his neck, undoing his cummerbund with nimble fingers. "What are you doing?" Danny asked.

"If there is no place to hide," Poindexter pulled the cummerbund off his neck and held it up before laying it down upon the surface of the ruined locker, "then we shall fight bravely, to the very end until the darkness swallows us whole."

And then he spun on one foot and marched away, the front doors of Casper flying open, until he was enveloped by awhite light shining brightly into Danny's eyes.

And when the boy disappeared, and the doors slid closed, Danny was left staring at the black ribbon on the rusted shelf, growing more solid with each passing moment.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** This is probably the most important chapter of the entire story due to Poindexter, but won't be explained until later on. The great thing to Danny Phantom is that the story, while toned down to the level of a kids show, has a very dark undertone that translates really well when you try to give it a grittier, more mature edge. On the flip side is characters like Sidney Poindexter, who are so one-dimensional that it's hard to do much with him. I basically had the image of a high-school kid going off to war writing this chapter. Did it work well for Poindexter? You tell me.

One of the complaints I've heard about Season 3 is that Sam became more of a Mary Sue character with Big Speeches That Inspire Others To Do What Is Right. I can't help but agree with this because Sam's hypocrisy is one of the best things about her, and I'm having lots of fun playing it up.


	36. Mouth Of Wolves

After his encounter with Poindexter, Danny decided to stop kidding himself and write the day off as a lost cause. He had already been reluctant to go to class following his impromptu photo session, and after the strange occurrence he had just witnessed there was absolutely no way he would be able to concentrate.

What was that strange light that had wrapped itself around Poindexter? Danny couldn't fathom it; it had not come from any natural source of light he knew of, shining brighter than the sun and forcing him to squint while he watched Poindexter fade into oblivion within its glow; he gazed down at the undone cummerbund clutched tightly in his hand, as solid and real as he himself. He couldn't help but feel as if he missed something, something important.

When he checked his cellphone, Danny found a message from Tucker promising to come over and help him prepare his assignment for shop class that evening. At least, Danny consoled himself, he had managed to accomplish something that day. With Tucker's help, he was sure to get a decent grade in the elective.

So it was with a numb brain but a lightened heart that Danny took to the air that afternoon, not knowing where he was going, but allowing his body to guide him forward.

It occurred to him as he drifted through the sky that he had not come across a ghost for quite a while. It seemed that everyone was hiding away; he could barely remember the last time he picked a fight with the Box Ghost.

Out of the misty clouds, his vision began to sharpen as he took in the sight of a large hill. Castle's Point was the highest location to be found in Amity Park, surrounded by jagged rock situated just below the overhang of the cliff. Were it not for the barricades that prevented cars from driving up its treacherous paths, it would surely be the most coveted destination for the teenagers of the town, the perennial make-out point for generations of high school sweethearts. Danny recalled with substantial mirth how he had chased after Johnny 13 when he had brought Jazz here, back in Danny's freshman year. Danny shook his head. God, he'd been a brat. But he had also been _right_.

Rather than situating himself on the grassy knoll at the very top of the cliff, Danny chose to land upon the rocky trail leading up to it, transforming back to his alter-ego. The walk would do him good. As his legs started forward, he began to ruminate once more on what had taken place in the annals of Casper High earlier that day.

_If there is no place to hide, then we shall fight bravely, to the very end..._

Danny unfurled his fingers and looked at the cummerbund, wrinkled and very, very real. He had seen it gain mass before his very eyes, change from the transparent state similar to Poindexter, take weight, become as corporeal as Danny himself. How could it be, and was it possible that Poindexter had met the same fate?

Danny crouched down upon the edge of the cliff, staring at the town that lay before him. His town. His to protect.

Except now he felt just as lost and confused as the rest of them. He thought of all the children, still enamored with the concept of living in a town with ghosts, real honest-to-goodness _ghosts_, spending recess running around, pretending to be Danny Phantom and the various ghostcatchers that had made a name for themselves over the years, tagging their friends and yelling that they were now trapped in the thermos and couldn't get out.

He thought of the older residents, parents, seniors and veterans; people who had come here to settle down, have a family, continue with their lives in peace, only to wake up one morning to the ugly truth that ghosts were real and that they were living in what was easily the most haunted town in the country. Scared mothers who sent their kids off to school, never knowing if they would receive a call that afternoon from the police saying that there had been another attack, another fight between Danny Phanotm and some random villain ... and that they regretted to say their son or daughter had gotten caught in the crossfire.

He thought of the people who went to work every morning, in Amity Park's business district, taking on the risk that the roof might collapse on them and the entire tower would one day come down – all because Danny had been too careless, because he had hurled some big brute out further than he meant to.

Then he thought of his peers, stuck in the middle. Kids who had been just as in love with the idea of Danny Phantom, fearless protector of Amity Park, as much as he had been, growing up into the cynical, snide, frightened people he saw in the halls today. Still in love with Danny Phantom, no doubt, but weary enough after four years of enduring these volatile conditions that they couldn't see past the idea of graduating and getting as far away from this accursed town as possible.

He didn't blame Sam and Tucker for their excitement over studying so far away. If he were anyone else, just a normal teenage boy who could see the exit sign looming directly ahead, he'd run for it as well. Their parents couldn't do anything about it, they were stuck; they had built their whole lives here and it would be too much trouble to uproot themselves now – hell, if Damon Gray hadn't had his reputation and entire livelihood stolen away from him, he would still be here, with his daughter, successful, whole, and utterly miserable. But the kids, Danny's friends and fellow students, they had no such bearings. They could get out, they had the option, and who was Danny to deny them that opportunity?

So he watched, he watched this town of his that was hanging on by a thread, and he thought about his failings and the duty he owed them. In the past few months, something had snapped within him, something had given up, collapsed. Danny Phantom had slowly been fading more and more into the background as the pressing issues of Danny Fenton's life began to take over. In all the confusion regarding his feelings for Sam, for Dash, his fears about college and the direction his life would take, he had forgotten the fact that he already _had_ a future. While the others were busy trying to figure out their destiny, he had lost sight of the fact that his destiny had been handed down to him four years ago in the basement of his parents' house.

Now that he had resolved to start taking more control of his schoolwork and getting his life back in order, it was time for him to make the same pledge to the citizens of Amity Park. Never again would Danny Phantom forget his oath to protect them from harm as best he could.

As the sun began to sink over the horizon, Danny got to his feet, his nerves steeling with resolve. Taking three steps back from the edge of the cliff, he sucked in a large intake of breath, and then ran forward, and plunged off the edge.

The wind whistled in his ears as he hurtled down to the jagged rocks below. They were growing larger, acutely coming into focus. Keeping his eyes trained on the ground coming up to meet him, Danny willed himself to transform. Two rings of light formed around his body and moved in opposite directions, turning his hair white and his clothes black.

Just before he came crashing against the rocks, Danny Phantom curled his spine upwards, swinging upwards, feeling the tip of the largest rock brush lightly against his suit. He soared upwards, wide green eyes on the darkening sky, and then once again, tipped his body backwards, his arms going limp at his side, and his legs coming up to point at his hair flowing freely. As he did, the body twisted against the naked air, and he was rolling in one slow graceful loop all the way around. For one instant, the entire world was upside-down, and then he corrected himself , and moved straight, shooting forwards, back into the town below him.

_...until the darkness swallows us whole._

_

* * *

_

Tucker was waiting for him inside the Fenton residence when Danny came home. He was sitting on a stool up against a counter in the kitchen, chatting enthusiastically to Maddie as she sliced the onions she had before her into little pieces.

"Hey man, where were you?" he asked when Danny walked in.

"I was dropping Sam off," he said breezily, the standard cover between the three friends when he didn't want to explain where he was in front of company. Tucker nodded in understanding.

"Dinner will be ready in less than an hour, boys," Maddie warned. "I don't want you to fill yourselves up on snacks beforehand."

"We won't, Missus F.," Tucker promised. "You know how much I love your sitr-fry beef."

Maddie smiled in response. Danny opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soda. "Where's dad?" he asked.

"Your father's upstairs, going through some things for work," Maddie reported. "He's got a big day tomorrow."

Of course. Danny hadn't forgotten that little piece of news he heard between the two scientists at Axion Labs. The Guys in White would be interrogating his father tomorrow, and Danny intended to be there. It was only fair, as he had both his parents for moral support when the Guys in White had tried to drill him for answers. Wordlessly, he motioned for Tucker to follow him to his room.

"So what were you doing?" Tucker asked when he set the two glasses he had picked up from the kitchen on to the tabletop.

"Nothing, really," Danny turned to his friend. "I was at Castle's Point. I needed to think." He dug his hand through his jeans pocket and pulled out the black cummerbund. "Look at this."

Tucker inspected the item for a few moments. "What's that?" he asked intelligently.

Danny passed it over to him. "It belonged to Poindexter."

Tucker dangled the cummerbund between two fingers in distaste. "And he, uh, _gave_ you this?"

"Not exactly," Danny said. "He left it on his locker. But look at it – feel it." Tucker brought the small tie closer to his face, as though searching for some inconspicuous flaw.

"You're gonna have to help me out here, Danny," he said flatly. "What is it I'm looking for?"

Danny rolled his eyes. Tucker really was so very profoundly dense sometimes. "It's solid!"

Tucker cocked an eyebrow. "I would expect so," he said. "I still don't see what's so great about it."

Danny sighed. He wasn't explaining this correctly. Of all the ghosts they had encountered in the past, Tucker and Sam were probably the least experienced with Poindexter. They knew of him, of course, having been the ones to excise him out of Danny's body during their first encounter, but Danny tended to forget that they weren't as knowledgeable regarding Poindexter as he was. Trading places with someone really served to make one intimately familiar with that person. After four years of dealing with various other ghosts, Danny supposed he could forgive Tucker forgetting small details like Poindexter's translucence.

"Nothing," he said. "Just ... nothing."

Tucker delicately placed the article of clothing down on Danny's desk. "So, you needed help with your assignment," he reminded. Danny stood up, rummaging by the corner of his bed until he pulled out a small wooden object. It was a simple clock with no particularly intricate designs, with two hands pointed at the 12 o'clock position. Tucker took it from him and narrowed his eyes as he surveyed it.

"Well, at least it's small," he said. "It shouldn't be too hard to do something up for it. When do you have shop class?"

"After lunch on Thursday," Danny informed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'll have to get started on it tonight then," Tucker decided. "Even if I manage to do it up on time, I probably won't be able to give it to you till lunchtime on Thursday."

"That's fine," Danny waved his hand. "I'm really glad you're helping me out with this, Tucker. I really appreciate it."

"Hey," Tucker said, "I can't go off all around the country to learn how to take over the world without making sure my best friend is okay, can I?" He grinned. "Besides, I would do anything for your mom's stir-fry beef."

* * *

Jack was a notable absence at the table that night. Danny couldn't remember a time when the family sat down to dine together without his father at the head of the table chewing as though his life depended on it. He turned questioning eyes on Maddie, who smiled reassuringly back at him. "Your father is really busy tonight," she said. "Big day tomorrow." Danny didn't miss the way she wrangled her fingers together while she spoke, a dead giveaway that she was anxious.

Tucker kept his head down, chewing quickly and swallowing noisily, but his eyes darted back and forth between Danny and Maddie. The conversation remained stilted for the rest of the meal.

Afterwards, he and Tucker returned upstairs. They had offered to wash up after themselves, but Maddie had chased them away, insisting she would take care of it. Danny didn't put up a fight; he knew his mother needed a distraction tonight. Typically, the boys would indulge in a few video games up in Danny's room, but, Tucker reminded, he had to get home and start working on the clock Danny had given him. Danny couldn't remember the last time he had bothered playing video games either; the old console lay dusty and unused under the television set.

He tried to remember what it was that he and Dash would do all those nights in his room. That period of his life, though recent, meshed into one big blur in his memory now. As he led Tucker downstairs, he racked his brains trying to recall the details of the time they had spent together. He remembered the smoothness of Dash's skin as he trailed his fingers across the other boy's body; remembered the color of his ice blue eyes, wide and unblinking, as though he didn't want to miss a second of this. Danny felt a stirring in his crotch and forcefully pulled himself back into the present.

He was opening the door now, working automatically. Tucker moved to stand beside the car, and Danny stared dumbly at him for a moment before realizing Tucker expected Danny to drive him home.

He plucked his keys from the holder on the wall and unlocked the doors. Tucker placed the cumbersome clock in the backseat before sliding in. Danny revved up the engine and pulled away, glancing at the immobile while van occupying his usual space across the street

The two friends remained in silence throughout the duration of the ride, and when they arrived at the Foley residence, Tucker jumped out as though he couldn't get away quickly enough, pulling the wooden clock shell with him, and gave an awkward wave goodbye before walking up the path to his home with the object cradled in his arms.

Danny waited until Tucker closed the door. About a full minute later, the overhead light in Tucker's room clicked on, and Danny could see his silhouette against the curtains taking a seat at the large study desk, placing the clock down and carefully taking it apart.

Danny pulled back the top of his car and drove away, enjoying the feel of the wind in his hair. He wondered where to go now; the new, responsible side of him knew that he ought to return home and spend the time remaining before bed with his books, preparing for finals, but he could not sit there and spend the night trying to ignore the burgeoning tension between his parents. The house was simply too stifling right now.

Once again, he acted automatically, allowing his mind to take over. He barely registered the direction he was headed, didn't notice the way the streets steadily grew wider, the fences taller, and the houses bigger as he neared the richer part of town. It was only when he passed by a familiar house with a hairline crack on the wall that he realized with a jolt that he had just past Paulina's place. Why the Sanchez family had not yet fixed up the damage caused by the ghost that rampaged past by during the girl's party, Danny didn't know, but he didn't spare much thought on it when he found himself driving past, further up the winding road. Even before he saw it, he knew where his car was taking him.

He had only seen Dash's house a handful of times before. In years past, he always tried to keep as far away from the other boy as possible, having seen enough of him in school to bother seeking him out of his own accord in addition to that. When Dash was assigned as Danny's mentor, they spent much of their time together locked in the Fenton residence, and when they slowly became friends, Dash would always meet Danny at some neutral location if not picking him up directly from his house. In fact, the last time Danny had visited the house was back in his freshman year, during an ill-fated party Dash had been twisted into inviting Danny to. It was just something that had never come up.

But here he was now, parked across the street and staring at the large brick house, his mind in turmoil. The Baxter residence was not as grandiose as the one owned by the Sanchez family. While Paulina's house was made of reinforced concrete, Dash's house seemed more humble with its construction of red brick; where Paulina's house grew a field of roses and carnations, Dash's yard exhibited only a patch of flat, freshly mown grass; and while the Sanchez topped their mansion with a large, half-circular balcony made of stone extending from the upper levels of the house, the Baxters' had only a modest square piece jutting out from what Danny assumed was the master bedroom, made from concrete and framed by a wrought-iron railing.

The clouds overhead moved then, revealing the full moon, lighting up the settings all around him. Danny could see the French doors that acted as windows, painted a pale yellow, and the sheer white curtains that fluttered behind them; he could see the dark green color of the front door; and just above it, in fancy black lettering, the word 'Baxter' pinned against the brick.

There were no lights on, no car in the driveway. Under the full moon and in between two orange streetlamps on either side, the house looked dead. Danny sat and watched, poking his head out the lowered window, his arms folded for his chin to rest on, staring at the house. He thought of the yearning he felt, almost every day, with almost every thought, for Dash. His absence in Danny's life consumed him; made him restless and uneasy. There had been no closure to the experience, no time to say goodbye, or 'I miss you', or even to yell at the jock for taking Lancer's cruel words to heart, for cutting Danny out of his life the way he did. As far as Dash knew, Danny was completely unaware of the speech the vice-principal had given; had he not run into the two of them at the Nasty Burger last weekend, Danny would have had no comprehension of the abrupt ending to his relationship with Dash, no reason as to why, and he loathed Dash for doing that to him.

His eyelids drooped, and with a melancholic sigh, he deflated. Dash was gone, and he had to face up to that fact. Sitting here, clinging on, would serve only to make him miserable. There were only a few scant weeks left in the school year; it would be easy to avoid Dash till then, and after that, everyone would go their separate ways ... and Danny would be alone again. That was the way things were. It was the natural order.

He saw a black Honda Civic roll into the driveway. The lights cut off, the engine died, and the door opened before a man with greying hair stepped out. Dash's father. The man was reasonably fit, even at his age; it was easy to see that he once been as fine a specimen as Dash was. He turned around and strolled down the driveway to check the mailbox, allowing Danny to see the thick white moustache that adorned his fair face. He tried to imagine Dash with a moustache, and smiled at the image.

Mr. Baxter was surveying the letters in his hand now and slowly making his way back to the dront door. Danny held his breath until the door clicked shut, the sound strangely amplified in the quiet night, then turned the key in the ignition and drove off.

* * *

When Danny arrived home, he found his mother had retired to bed, turning off all the lights except for one solitary source in the hallway. He closed the door behind him quietly and plodded up the stairs. He paused just outside his parents closed bedroom, noticing the sliver of light emanating through the crack. He raised his hand to knock, but paused when their low murmuring voices reached his ears. He couldn't make out what they were saying, only indistinct sounds, but it was enough to know that their marriage wasn't being shrouded in silence any longer. Since the interrogation, he had only heard a few necessary words from his normally boisterous father, and he hated it. He hated this stoic demeanor his father was developing, and he only prayed his mother could pull him out of its trap.

Danny read the words on his textbook numbly, but the words slipped through his mind like so much water through his fingers. He groaned, frustrated, rubbing his palms through his hair, and tried to focus. Every time he sat down to study, something always got in the way. The healing wound on his side throbbed as a reminder of the last time he failed to concentrate. Planting his elbows solidly on the surface of the table, Danny gripped his head and held it in place between both hands and resolutely read the words on the page. Then he read them again. And again. And again.

With a growl, he flung back in his seat. What was _wrong_ with him? Right now, Tucker was hunched over his desk, feverishly working on _Danny's_ assignment, just because Danny had asked for his help, because he needed more time to study for his other classes. Yet here he was, going through the motions once again, and unable to take anything in. His eyes drifted along the wooden desk, where the black cummerbund lay unperturbed by his dark thoughts.

Danny rubbed at his eyes, feeling suddenly exhausted. He gazed longingly at his bed, then back at his book. With study habits like his, he didn't deserve to go to college.

Bruised, broken, and feeling the hurt from his earlier sojourn to the Baxter house, Danny admitted defeat for another night, clicking off the lamp and clambering into bed, almost collapsing upon the welcoming sheets. As he felt the fringes of sleep creep up on him, he had just enough presence of mind to set the alarm clock on his cellphone to six in the morning; he didn't know when his parents would be leaving for work, but he intended to be there when the Guys in White came in to interview his father.

With that, Danny set his phone down, closed his eyes, and fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

The sun rose quietly the next morning over Amity Park. Danny rubbed at his eyes blearily, slowly coming back to life as the faint buzzing of his alarm clock seeped through his ears and into his mind. He rolled on to his back and faced the ceiling, breathing softly. Another day. Nimbly he pulled aside the comforter flowing off his bed, sitting up and placing his feet upon the cold floor.

He didn't spare a moment to think, throwing on his clothes then quickly sinking through the tile to land in the kitchen. Maddie was there, tossing eggs in a skillet mixed with mushrooms and diced bell peppers. Danny took in the bags under her eyes and her pale drawn face.

Jack came in then, looking none the better. Together the two of them sat at the table and silently chewed on their food. The newspaper they typically shared while they breakfasted lay unbidden several centimeters away. For some reason, this seemingly insignificant change in his parents routine struck the deepest chord inside Danny. Blinking hard, he left the kitchen, unable to watch anymore.

When he was outside the house, he raised his head and caught sight once again of the stationary truck across the street. Rage flared inside him, and he marched over to the vehicle. His breaths were labored and uneven, his heart raced, and his fists clenched so tightly that, were he not intangible, he was sure his fingernails would have broken the skin. He was about to do something – he wasn't sure whether he wanted to break in or simply blow the whole damn thing up with a blast from his hand – but came to a halt when a voice inside his head that sounded remarkably like Sam's ordered him to stop.

With great effort, he managed to lower his outstretched hand, just inches away from the doors. It would do no good to act recklessly now. He still wasn't sure if the van would be able to detect him if he snuck in in his intangible state, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to control the anger bubbling within him once he got inside. Clenching his teeth, he took a small, miniscule step back. Closing his eyes, he evened out his breathing and relaxed his shoulders, then straightened his spine and gazed at the leering van through half-lidded eyes.

One day. Just not today.

* * *

Jack and Maddie left for Axion early that morning, as Danny expected they would. He trailed above, his ghostly tail whipping the air behind him. It was only seven; hardly anybody would be in the lab; Danny doubted the Guys in White would come in so early either. When they entered the large working space Vlad had provided them, they immediately set down their briefcases and began rummaging through the various items. Jack pulled out a long roll of paper which, Danny found when he peeked over his shoulder, read like a checklist. He handed it over to Maddie, who had on her reading glasses. She, in turn, quickly strapped his arm to a moderately-sized beeping monitor with lots of dials that was set on the table. Jack took a moment to loosen up and turn his breathing shallow. Maddie observed the readings on the monitor, then turned back to the list.

"One Axion-brand Ghost Catcher," she intoned in a low voice.

"Present and accounted for," Jack stared blankly at the wall in front of him.

"One pair of Axion-brand Ghost Gauntlets."

"Present and accounted for."

"One Axion-brand Ghost Container."

"Location presently unverified."

Slowly Danny realized that they were running through the itemized list of inventions they had been commissioned to create for Axion Labs. The container, of course, was tucked away in Danny's room and currently held the spirit of Vlad Plasmius. Vlad must have separated his two halves using the Ghost Catcher stored within the bowels of the laboratory before trapping it within the container and giving it to Danny.

Maddie was still reading, and Danny tuned back in.

"One hazardous material ghost suit."

"Location presently unverified."

"One prototype Gen 2ecto-ray gun."

"Present and accounted for."

Danny bent over the table to get a better look at the device Jack was currently strapped to. His eyes flicked up to his parents, who were still speaking in calm, detached voices. This must have been some sort of a lie detector, Danny knew. Apparently, his parents expected Jack to undergo the same treatment when being interrogated later on. He rested his elbows on the table and watched in fascination as they made their way through the list. The number of inventions they had spent time creating was remarkable.

Eventually Maddie pulled off her glasses and unstrapped her husband. "Well, that's the end," she said. "You passed every question, so there shouldn't be too much to worry about."

Jack nodded quietly. He had his thinking face on, the one that told the rest of the world that his mind was occupied with one of his all-consuming thoughts. It was often confused with the face that expressed his need to go to the bathroom.

Maddie was packing away the various items strewn across the counter. With her back turned, she asked, "How's the eulogy coming along?"

Jack shook his head. "I'm stuck," he muttered. "Every time I try to think of what to say, I just get blocked."

Maddie straightened up and turned back to Jack. "Sweetheart," she said carefully, "if you don't think you can do it, you don't have to. We don't even have to go to the funeral if you don't want to. We can always arrange for someone else to handle it – Vlad's lawyers, or one of the men from the company, maybe even Mayor Stubbs…"

Jack was shaking his head adamantly. "No," he said. "He was my best friend. I've known him the longest; I should be the one to do it. I just … can't think of anything good to say about him right now."

The meaning of his words were loud and clear. Danny was unaware that his father had been elected to give the leading eulogy at Vlad's funeral. It made sense, Danny supposed. Hardly anyone could say they had known Vlad Masters on a personal level.

Maddie nodded, backing off. "Well, don't worry," she consoled. "The funeral's not till Friday. You have plenty of time."

Jack nodded, getting to his feet. The stool he had been sitting on screeched as its legs ground against the floor. "I think I'll work on it now. It'll help kill some time."

Maddie pulled off her black gloves. "I'm going to go out and get some coffee," she said. "I think we're both going to need it." Jack nodded in acknowledgement and hastily piled everything she had arranged into containers. He reached over to extract a loose sheaf of paper and a pen, and stared at it waiting for the words to come. When the door closed, signalling Maddie's departure, he dropped the pen, shifting so his elbows rested against the blunt edge of the tabletop and pressing his forehead against his upturned palms.

"Why, Vladdy?" he whispered to himself. "Why?"

Danny felt a lump in his throat. His heart went out to his father. He couldn't stand to see the older man looking so lost and forlorn.

_You always love the ones you're with_.

Maybe he couldn't be there for his father the way Jack had been for him the day he had been questioned by the agents. Maybe he couldn't support him the way Jack had always tried to whenever Danny was in trouble, or felt sad or betrayed. But he could show his solidarity in his own way. He could be with his father in spirit, and not in the way of some empty sentiment. Earlier that day, he had been overwhelmed, had chosen to run when he found his parents troubles too painful to deal with. He wouldn't do the same this time. So while the Fenton partriarch tried to compose himself, Danny sat down on a chair positioned in one corner of the room and waited with him.

He wouldn't be running away this time.

* * *

In the early afternoon, the Guys in White came. There was a change in the air, a crackling of tension so tangible Danny could almost smell it. A troop of them stormed down the corridors, charging to their next target. In the middle of this group was an black man of considerable age, with heavy lines sunk into his skin. He skulked slower than the rest and with more purpose. While the younger men who flanked him shot down any bystanders with pointed glares, he stared straight ahead, only darting his eyes to take in his surroundings. When the younger men threw open the door and barked at Maddie Fenton to get out so that the could begin their interview with her husband, he stepped forward calmly and gave her a smile.

"Missus Fenton," this man said, "it's a pleasure. I am Agent Pelham – director of the Guys in White." He took her wrist in his and raised it to his lips.

Maddie was quite obviously taken aback by this behavior. She gaped down at him as he kissed her hand in greeting, a hand upon her heart. Jack watched stonily in the distance.

"I'll take it from here, gentlemen – no need for bright lights, we're not lookin' to blind nobody," he said to two men who were setting up a large stand with an oversized filament bulb attached, "in fact, I think it would be more comfortable if we just dimmed the lights a little bit. Nobody here's on trial." He glanced over at Jack. When the men escorted Maddie out of the room, they left the two of them – and Danny – in relative darkness.

Agent Pelham took a seat across from Jack, letting out a little sound as his body settled into a sitting position.

"This old thing ain't what it used to be," he commented to Jack.

Jack didn't respond. His arms were folded, and there was a murderous glint in his eye. As far as he was concerned, this man was his enemy. Pelham didn't appear the least bit disturbed by this hostile welcome. He simply reached up to his face, and proceeded to do something Danny had never seen another agent do before. He slipped off his sunglasses, and set it on the table, and didn't look at it again.

Agent Pelham leaned back in his chair and gazed at Jack. "You smoke?" Jack didn't reply. Pelham pulled a pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket. "You mind if I do?"

"I'm ready to take the test whenever you are," Jack said loudly.

Pelham's eyes slid over to the lie detector sitting further along the table. "What, that thing?" He held the cigarette between his lips and flared up his lighter. "What makes you think I'd want-a use that?" He blew out a puff of smoke and studied Jack's defensive form.

"You know, being director of the division affords me certain liberties no one else gets to enjoy," he told Jack. "For example, I get to come into the office at eleven in the morning after enjoying a nice hot shower and good hearty breakfast that my maid fixed up. While I walk to my office, one man comes up besides me and carries my briefcase, and another comes up the other side and tells me what they all been up to since I been away." His voice had a light airy drawl to it, and Danny had to admit, the man had his charm. "When I get to my office, I sign a few papers they give me. If I feel so inclined, I have one of them read it out to me, word for word.

"Around twelve, I call someone to come with me to lunch. Usually it's the missus, but – sometimes I like to change it up; sometimes I call up one of my buddies from another division of the FBI, and we go out and make fun of the CIA; sometimes, I call up one of my men who's been doing a good job impressin' me lately – they always like that; and every so often, _I_ get a call, and I go over to the White House and dine with the President of the United States." He gave his shoulders a slow, deliberate shrug and pursed his lips smugly.

"Afterwards, I go down to the park and take the long way back. When I get back to the office, I take off my coat, I sit in my chair, an' I look over the accounts and the budget and things like that," he waved his hand, "then I go watch the newest episodes of The Simpsons until someone comes along with something they need my signature on. And then, I'm out at four, enjoyin' a leisurely ride back to my home – 'less I choose to have someone _drive_ me back. It's a good life. But when someone asks me what's the best part of it all, you know what I say?" he fixed Jack with a serious look, then allowed a slow, satisfied grin to emerge on his face. "I say the best part is bein' a black man with a white maid."

There was a moment of terse silence. Jack unfurled his arms, and sat up straighter. "Well, you know what _I_ say?" he asked solemnly. "I say you're the kind of drain on the economy this country doesn't need."

"But you're not," Agent Pelham countered. "No, you're a very important person. You doing good work, protectin' this town. You bringin' ghosts to the forefront, bein' a leader in this here market. 'Course, most people don't believe in it. You a big fish in this town, and you doin' good work, but out there, outside your little town, out in the rest of this good green earth, people think you're cracked." He leaned closer against the table, eyes still on Jack. "But we know better, don't we? We both know the kind of work that needs to be did before we c'n save the world."

He pulled back, resting against the back of the chair again. "Which leads me to the next part-a my story. When my men told me they gonna interview Jack Fenton, I said to them, I said, 'Boys, you can stand down. I always wanted to meet Jack Fenton.' So they flew me down here on the President's private jet, and now here I am, talkin' to you." He gave Jack a fatherly smile. "I gotta say, everythin' I got goin' on in my life right now, I owe it to you. If not for you and your 'crackpot' ideas, I wouldn't be havin' this job I got right now. And that's why I want to help you."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Help me," he echoed skeptically.

"Let me tell you a story," Pelham sucked on his cigarette, taking two steady puffs before blowing out the smoke, "once upon a time, there was a little company tryin'-a make a name for themselves in a market that didn't hardly exist yet. Their product? Microchips. In order to survive the initial stages, this company relied on two goals: cheap production and high sales numbers."

In the darkness of the room, Danny could hardly see the two men, only their glimmering eyes and the burning tip of Pelham's cigarette.

"In order to meet this goal, the company decided to take their wares some place they had never been before – Vietnam. Now, as you can imagine, those Commies didn't take too well to American corporations trying to operate in their country. It would only be three years later when the two of them would open trade relations for the first time since the war. An' in those three years, this little company of ours found that thoseVietnamese folk … well, they ain't like our folk."

Pelham took another puff of his cigarette, making sure to blow the smoke away from the direction of Jack's face.

"First of all, these Commies – well, they can't read very good. Mos' of 'em, back in the day, they farmers. _But_, rather than curl up an' die, they decided to take advantage of the situation. For, you see, them Commies were different from Americans in one other important way: whentheir government tell them to do somethin', they sit down an' do it. _Imagine_. That ain't like our way, now, is it, Jack?" Pelham gave Jack a hard look.

"So, rather than fight the government not wantin' 'em, our little company here, they decide to _work_ with them instead. They go up to 'em, an' they say, 'We can make your farmin' better!' An' the government says, 'Well, how you gon do that?' So our little company here, they go on and they build themselves a website, a website that shows these farmers the crop prices on a day-to-day basis. An' _then_, they go ahead and build that website up some more with maps that show land boundaries, an' Jack, I tell ya, you would not _be_-_lieve_ how much fightin' those land boundaries would cause our own Commie friends before. Nex' thing you know, they sell themselves one thousand computers along with those chips-a theirs."

Pelham's cigarette dangled loosely between his fingers. "Then our Commie friends say, 'Well, you good – but how good are you?' An' our little company tells them back, 'We here to change the way you live.' The nex' target, like I told you, was makin' sure these Vietnamese folk learn how to read." He leaned forward once more, locking eyes with Jack.

"Now tell me, Jack, you got any idea who our little company grew up to be?" Jack said nothing. "It's Intel, Jack. Our little company is Intel. Fas'-forward few years later, an' they got the government eatin' out of the palm of their hands. Anythin' they want, they get. And in return? They agree to bring our fine Commies into the modern era. Now, these Vietnamese farmers are sennin' their children to school with fancy computer labs. An' when they come home, they goin' on their own personal computers at home usin' that wifi. Throw out your back hoing your fields? Well, their hospitals got computers too. And so do their universities, cafes, and soon, every finger-lickin' KFC in the land!" Pelham's voice went lower now, more threatening. "And all they had to do was realize that their goals, and the government's goals weren't so different after all. You understand what I'm sayin', Jack?"

There was no mistaking the underlying message. The story, along with the change in Pelham's demeanor, left Danny cold.

"Let me spell it out for you, Jack," Pelham was saying, "you been fightin' my boys ever since we heard of your lonely town four years ago. An' since then, we been getting' bigger, stronger – better. We even got our own ghost-portal now—"

"The designs of which you ripped off from my house," Jack interjected. Pelham gave him a disparaging smile.

"Like I said, everythin' I got, I owe to you." He stubbed out his cigarette on the large table between them. "You and I, we want the same things here, Jack. We want-a bring ghosts to the attention of the world, we want-a help people protect themselves – just like how you want-a protect your pretty little town. Fightin' us – it's senseless. You're not goin' to win anything standin' in our way, Jack. All you're doing is hurting the people out there, people who will hear the information we give them an' know, this is Jack Fenton's work. I owe my life, and my children's lives, to Jack Fenton."

Danny felt the anger he'd quelled from earlier that morning rise up inside him again. Jack's eyes narrowed.

"You're wasting your time," he told Agent Pelham. "There is _nothing_ that I would do to sell my family out. Especially not to you."

There was a loud knock on the door before it was pushed open, flooding the room with light again. Danny whipped his head around in alarm. An agent stood at the doorway with only his burly outline visible. "Very sorry to disturb you sir," said a familiar voice, "but we have an issue that needs your attention."

Pelham's eyes returned to Jack's. "I'll leave you to think about what I just said." He stood up, adjusted his clothes, and allowed the other agent to lead him outside. Danny spared one last glance for his father before following suit.

"What is it, M?" Pelham questioned. Danny recognized the agent who had interrupted the interview between the director and his father as the same one who had grilled him at the police department Monday afternoon.

"Sir, it's regarding our base unit in Washington," Agent M said. "We have been unable to get in contact with Belgrave at the bureau. If you recall, we placed him in charge of subject #60287—"

"M, now, you know I can never remember all those codes," Pelham said. "Make it simple for me. Who exactly are we talking about?"

M sucked in a deep breath to steady himself. "The albino, sir."

The two men stood stock still for a minute, staring at each other. Then Pelham let out a loud swear, slapping a hand across his thigh.

"Have all units convene at the regular meeting place. Where is Agent K?"

"At the hospital, sir," M informed.

"I want you to drive down there and pick him up. Let him know that you're coming and that he is to wait for you. Spread the word around. Code red."

"Yes, sir!" Agent M gave a quick salute, then rushed off to fulfill the director's orders. The panic-stricken director returned to the darkened lab room.

"Fenton," Pelham's voice had lost all trace of its airiness, and was now rough and demanding. "You're free to go. But I trust you would remember this conversation of ours, won't you?"

Jack was confused, but didn't question it. Danny could see the relief written on his face as he hastened to get away from the older man. Pelham pulled out a white handkerchief from his pocket, swiping it against his brow.

"Good Lord," he muttered to himself. "Good Lord."

Danny was thunderstruck. Just who was this albino they were talking about? Just one mention, and Danny had seen this proud, haughty man crumble into a mass of nerves. Pelham didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave just yet, sitting down shakily on Jack's recently vacated chair. Danny decided he would follow Agent M on to the hospital and then to the Guys in White meeting place.

Taking one last look at the quivering man, Danny walked quickly, making sure to never lose sight of Agent M's figure. M jumped into a white van left on the laboratory's parking lot and quickly steered out. Danny rose to the sky and followed him.

After several minutes of reckless endangerment, Agent M came to a screeching halt outside the hospital. M blasted on the horn impatiently just as Danny came in for a landing before the automatic doors leading in to the emergency ward. M let out a litany of curse words, obviously displeased Agent K wasn't waiting for him like he'd ordered. He pounded at the vehicle's horn again, blatantly ignoring the signpost advertising for quiet.

Frustrated, M jumped out of the car, teeth bared and arms swinging by his side, swearing under his breath as he passed Danny by. Danny followed closely behind until they reached the receptionist's table. Danny was gratified to find the same woman there as the one he had come across during his trip to Amity General as well. She was sure to give the man trouble.

"Where is Agent K?" M barked as soon as he reached the counter.

"Please get to the back of the line, sir," she replied without raising her head from the forms she was currently working on.

"I said," M leaned closer to the window, "_where is Agent K?_"

"And I said to get to the back of the line, sir," she replied in the same level tone, unfazed by his rudeness. "There are other patients waiting to be served."

"Forget it," M gritted out. "I'll find him myself."

"If you wish to visit a patient, you'll have to register on the logbook."

M exhaled loudly, but pulled out a pen from the depths of his coat pocket.

"Visitors are only authorized to sign in on the logbook using one of the pens provided by hospital staff, sir," the nurse informed him blithely.

"What the hell kind of a stupid rule is that?" M snapped.

"It helps us keep track of who's coming and going," she said. "If you want to visit your friend, you'll have to use a pen from the hospital."

"Where _is_ my friend anyway?" he sneered. "No doubt visiting his little boyfriend."

"Hospital staff are only authorized to provide information on the whereabouts of patients after visitors have signed in on the logbook," the nurse replied.

"Fine," Agent M acquiesced. "Get me a damn pen then."

"You'll have to wait, sir," she told him. "I don't have a pen."

Agent M stamped his foot in rage. "You're using a fucking pen right now!"

"This is my pen, sir," she said. "I need it to do fill out these forms so that I can help all these people who are _standing in the line_."

"Then go get me another one," M gritted out slowly.

"You'll have to wait, sir," she turned back to her paperwork. "I'm serving the gentleman behind you right now."

Danny was bursting at the seams. Only the fear of being heard helped him keep his laughter silent. Once the nurse handed back the form to the elderly man behind M, who made sure to grind his elbow into the agent's side as he passed, she rose up to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" Agent M demanded in alarm.

"I'm going to find you a pen, sir," she told him before leaving. Danny seized this opportunity to dive behind the counter and check out her computer, taking care to ensure that the agent couldn't see him moving the mouse or typing on the keyboard. M was busy glaring at a wall to his side, so Danny returned to the monitor before him. As he suspected, the patient records were laid bare for him to examine. Scrolling upwards, he searched quickly for Saturday's intakes. Soon enough he found the names of two operatives who had been admitted, one of whom was Agent O, K's longtime partner.

The heard the sound of shuffling feet and quickly scrolled back down to the page the nurse had originally left her records on. Maintaining his invisibility, Danny quietly made his way out.

"_Finally!_" he heard M grunt.

"If you wish to sign in on the logbook, you'll have to stand at the back of the visitors line, sir."

Danny smirked when he heard M's aggravated cry upon noticing the long line of people waiting for their turn to sign in the guestbook.

* * *

Walking through the fourth floor, Danny couldn't help feeling the grey-spackled walls lining the corridor grow more oppressive as he passed further along. The dim fluorescent lights placed intermittently along the lane grew more sparse and further apart the deeper he went. Shadows played off the doors, counters, trolleys and various other paraphernalia that dotted the otherwise bare surroundings. The floor was almost unnaturally silent. Danny failed to see a single nurse around the area. The entire floor seemed almost abandoned.

Finally, he found himself at a row of rooms that ran along a wall. The doors were left open with little light, dimmer than the ones fixed out in the hall, shining down upon the beds. Cautiously, Danny stepped into one of the large rooms.

Unlike the livelier environment of the floor in which Kwan had been placed upon being admitted into the hospital, this one radiated a sense of foreboding. There was not a single soul stirring. It was almost as if this place had been left forgotten.

Danny approached the bed closest to the door and observed the ashen face of the unmoving man who lay on it. His thin lips were almost blue, and if not for the beeping monitor he had attached, Danny would have thought him deceased.

He moved over to the adjoining bed where an old woman with thin white hair lay. Danny squinted down at her. It was hard to tell she was breathing. Her blue veins stood out against her paper-like skin. Curious, Danny reached down and grasped the chart that was attached to the foot of the bed and scanned its contents. There was a lot in it that he couldn't understand, but one word caught his eye: metastatic cancer. He lowered his eyes to gaze down at the frail woman again.

He went over to the next bed, pulling up the chart. Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. He went over to the next one. Hepatitis. The next one. Pancreatic cancer. One bed over. Leukemia. Stage 4 Lymphoma. Liver failure. Acquired Immunodeficiency Syndrome.

Terminal.

Danny returned the last chart back to where it had been placed and spun in a slow circle to take in the unmoving figures all around him again. He understood now why there was such a dark aura hanging over this place that separated it from the rest of the building. This floor was saved for the cases which held no hope, no potential to recover.

These people had been left for dead.

Lost in his grief for these strangers whom he did not know, these abandoned souls locked away from the rest of the world, Danny shimmered into being again, losing his immaterial state to stand there in the middle of the room, out of place amidst these gaunt figures in pallid white robes with his blue jeans and worn shoes.

Quietly he left, a sense of injustice nagging at him. He kept his head down almost forgetting the reason he came here entirely, and would have done so if, on his way back to the elevator, he heard a faint whispering sound.

His head shot up, images of what he had just seen still burning behind his eyes, and turned in the direction of the barely-discernable disturbance. Almost without thinking, his feet began to move, drawing him closer. As he approached, the voice began to grow more distinguishable. Danny recognized it as a man's voice, gruff, not used to speaking in a low volume.

His heart began to pound, and his pace quickened. Danny's blue eyes darted back and forth as he passed by the row of rooms again, searching for the source. Just as he reached it, he remembered to turn invisible once more, then peered inside. This room was smaller than the one he entered earlier, and housed only two patients, and between them, situated on a chair propped to face one of the inmates, was another.

A dark-skinned man with a sturdy frame and shaved head, wearing dark sunglasses and a white suit was hunched over in his seat, leaning in to another man of similar size clad in a hospital gown lain on the bed next to his chair. The man on the bed had an olive complexion in contrast to the man who currently had one of his hands clasped between two of his own. Reminding himself to be a quiet as possible, Danny stepped over the threshold to stand closer to the two subjects.

Agent K had his partner's hand in a firm grip, his thumb absently running over the other man's knuckles, and he was murmuring sweet nothings into the unresponsive subject's ear. Danny struggled to catch what he was saying but could only glean a few words that escaped. "…won't get away with this … gonna make sure … everything alright again … together before you know it … don't worry … take care of it…"

"Mister K?" a cherub-sweet voice resounded from behind them. Danny jumped slightly at the unexpected sound. K managed to tear his eyes away from his partner's side long enough to snap, _"What?"_

"Your little friend is looking for you. Apparently he couldn't wait to sign the logbook, so he had me come find you," the nurse informed brightly. "It's time for you to go."

K turned his attention back to the man lying on the bed. He didn't say anything further, but the muscles in his mouth worked furiously, wanting to lash out at being interrupted. Instead, he slowly stood up, pushing the chair back. He let go of Agent O's limp hand, then leaned down to press a soft kiss on his forehead. Danny drew in a sharp breath at this unexpected motion of tenderness. He wanted to say something, 'I'm sorry', perhaps, or 'I understand'. He turned when Agent K turned, facing the nurse waiting for him.

Danny's eyes bulged and his jaw dropped when he noticed her face. The white cap that adorned her head hid most of her blood-red hair, but there was no mistaking her large green eyes, her pointed chin, or the sadistic grin sprawled across her beautiful face.

Danny was staring at Penelope Spectra.

She gestured at the exit for Agent K, placing a hand on his back in mocking show of compassion. As he passed by, she inhaled deeply, as though savoring the scent of the deodorant he wore. Danny knew, however, that what she was inhaling with such relish could not be poured into any bottle. K gave her a strange look, and she returned it with a twisted smile.

Shutting the heavy door behind K, Spectra turned hungry eyes upon the helpless two agents that lay side by side. Slowly, purposefully, she sauntered towards her victims, her hips sashaying in an exaggerated fashion as her heels clacked against the floor. Her shadow fell upon Agent O's face as she towered over him, revealing her pointed teeth as her malicious grin grew wider. Danny watched, petrified, while she raised her hand, nails filed into dangerous tips and painted a robust pink.

"Stop."

Spectra paused, her fingers curled to resemble a claw. She raised her eyebrows when Danny materialized before her, trembling. Spectra blinked, then straightened up, familiarity glazing over her features.

"Danny Phantom, _hello_!" she crowed, placing her hands on her hips. "What brings you here?"

"Whatever you're planning, stop," Danny urged. "You're only going to give yourself away."

Spectra raised her eyebrows knowingly. "And what is it that you think I'm planning?"

"Stop it, Spectra!" Danny roared, his anger flaring high. He had dealt with too much, seen too much, to put up with her games that day. The decaying faces of the people at the other end of the hall still burned in his mind. "You make one move to kill them and I blow you through that window and right into the van of the Guys in White waiting downstairs."

To his surprise, Spectra began to laugh. Her shoulders shook with the effort of it, and she threw her head back and allowed them to wrack through her body.

"Kill them! Oh, my dear boy, you are sorely mistaken. I have no desire to kill any of these people."

She sat herself down on the chair Agent K had been using, swinging one leg over the other, gazing up at Danny in amusement. "After all," she said in a calculative tone, "if I were interested in killing them, I would have smothered your friend while he slept right before your very eyes."

Danny gaped at her. "How – you were there?"

Spectra let out a chuckle. "Oh, Danny – I have been in every part of this hospital you can think of."

"How long?" Danny questioned, taking a step back. This was unbelievable. How could Spectra have been here all along? He recalled his fight with Bertrand at Casper High, remembered him saying that they had parted ways and that he didn't know where she was. His eyes slid down to take in her form, the way she was dressed in that nurse's outfit. Why had he not sensed her presence?

"How long?" she murmured. "Oh – months, I believe. I'm not too sure. The days blur into the nights and back into the days again … I've been here ever since they discovered that rock."

The rock – the one with the inscription that had thrown the Ghost Zone into a panic. Spectra was still speaking.

"Everyone got themselves into such a frenzy, running about in circles; it was _delicious_, truly … but then they started coming up with all these plans and such. Little thing, you know, just to give themselves hope. Well, I wasn't interested in the least, so I told myself, why not wait it out?

"Like many others, I decided to seek refuge in the human world. If the Ghost Zone is truly to be destroyed, well then, the despair that would create … could you imagine?" she turned her eyes, and Danny was taken aback to find her pupils dilated. "So I thought, why not bide my time till then? Stay in the human world, until this little … prophecy – or whatever it is – comes to pass, and then go back in to reap the benefits. _Oh_, the devastation…" she threw her arms out and began to rotate off the ground and into the air. Danny backed up. Spectra was floating now, her eyes closed, and an expression of delirious ecstasy on her face.

"I contemplated where to spend my time in human world," her eyes glowed an almost neon green now, blaring bright against the dimly lit room. Danny glanced over at the window covered up by the pink curtain heavy enough to block out sunlight almost entirely. "Considered going back to your school, but I knew you'd be far too much of a pest to deal with … and then I told myself, where in Amity Park would I find the greatest supply of despair?"

She ran a hand down her smooth cheek. "Oh, but even _I_ didn't anticipate how well it would work out. Your town truly is a fountain of youth, Danny; I haven't felt this refreshed in _years_."

Then her skin began to peel. Danny stared with a mixture of horror and disgust as a chunk of flesh fell off her arm, followed by a strip unwrapping from her face down to her legs. Like a banana she began to unravel, the outer husk falling away to reveal a creature spawned of black fire. Green irises gave way to narrow red slits, and Spectra tossed away the last of its human remains with a whip of its tail. When it spoke, its voice echoed so that it sounded as though the entire room was speaking with it.

"The best part," it boomed, "was growing so powerful that I even began to surpass _you_. Who would have thought sinking into the walls would allow me to evade your ghost sense so entirely? Oh, how I laughed when I watched you come in and out, eating away at your emotions while you watched your friend. You, and that other boy … and you never had a clue!"

It drifted down, hovering over the prone form of Agent O. Danny turned to him in alarm, and realized with a start that the man's eyes were open. He almost shouted, but then noticed that the agent still wasn't moving. Danny understood then that the reporters had gotten it wrong. The two agents weren't comatose the way Kwan had been. Their eyes were wide open, and their faces frozen in an expression of terror. They weren't comatose, they were _catatonic_. That's why the hospital had placed them here, in this ward for the dying. The doctors probably had no idea how to bring them out of the perpetual state of fear Danny knew they were stuck in. Spectra ran one of its long, black fingers against his forehead and stuck it into its mouth, as though tasting a simmering broth. Its eyes slid shut in a moment of bliss.

"Mmmmm," it purred. "That Fright Knight truly is an artist."

It turned its merciless red eyes back on to Danny. "As I was saying, my dear – I have no reason to kill any of these people. The misery radiating from them, and from their loved ones, are all I need to get me by. Why, I'd be doing myself a disservice finishing them off, cutting my connection to their souls … and then their friends and family would stop visiting. And it's _such_ a pain waiting for the new sicklies to come in. No, I'm not looking to kill anybody. I want them to hang on as long as they possibly can." Its grin turned predatory. "After all, that's why I became a nurse."

Spectra's voice, still bouncing off the walls, started deepening, growing monstrous. "The ones I like best are the coma patients," it sneered. "Your friend in particular was a rare treat. You do know that they are conscious throughout the entire ordeal, don't you, Phantom? Not awake, perhaps, but the dread and the confusion running through their mind is _delightful_! Your friend—" it curved its back, letting out a great and terrible laugh, "—he didn't eve n know what hit him! It was hilarious, if only you could have heard him … one day he's swaggering through school like he owns the place – the next, his body won't move and everything's dark! His fear was truly inspired."

Danny had heard enough. Breathing hard, he transformed into ghostly form. His chest and his shoulders rose and fell, and his blood roared in his ears. He raised his glowing hand to the hideous specter in front of him. Spectra let out another round of laughter.

"You don't honestly believe you are any match for me, do you, boy?" it howled. "Even now you feed me with your anger and your resentment. There is nothing you can do to stand against my strength, to stand against my will, to stand against _my power!_" It raised its arms and the world exploded. Danny watched in horror as the dull grey walls began to melt in a wave of black ooze.

The floor started to give way, becoming less solid, less tangible, transforming into a large puddle of muck. Danny let out a cry, waving his arms to steady himself from falling, and then realized that he was _stuck_. He had been so distracted by Spectra's words he hadn't been paying enough attention, had forgotten to fly into the air. Spectra was growing bigger, looming over him and the two immobile men. The floor had attached itself to his white boots, and now the walls were pulling away at Spectra's behest, gathering in the air towards her, black spooge from all four sides gathering together to form into a giant wave. Danny stared at frightfully, dread scrabbling at him.

With a wave of its hand, Spectra commandeered the large dark wave to hurl itself at him and Danny had no time to do anything but raise his hands to his face in an inadequate attempt to protect himself.

The wave washed over him , drowning him in its form, and then circled, picking itself up almost as soon as it had crashed down on him, taking Danny along with it. Danny could see, through the faintest cracks available, Spectra's cruel grin, and then he was rolling, rolling as the wave tumbled itself over and over in mid-air until it formed a ball. Danny had no choice but to hold his breath and turn intangible in hopes of escaping, but it was no use. The black ooze would not allow him to pass through. With one last gaze through the cracks before the darkness closed around him, Danny saw Spectra clench her claw-like fingers into a fist and swipe at the air before him, and then Danny felt himself hurtling sideways, tearing through thin air until he crashed into something, the impact of which lodged him out of the black mass's hold, and then he was falling, sunlight piercing through his closed eyes. Danny peeked out through one eyelid and realized he was outside now, heading straight for the hospital's parking lot.

Forcing himself to remain intangible, he allowed it to happen, feeling the air cut through him as he fell. Light burst through the cracks of his eyelashes, and then suddenly, darkness once again.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** Man, what a depressing chapter. Correct me if you feel differently, but I think this is probably the gloomiest installment in the story so far.

This chapter was supposed to go on and end with a scene in Danny's room, but it didn't feel right after writing this fight scene with Spectra. I'll see if I can work it into the next chapter, or else drop it entirely. But god, does it feel good to get out of the 10 pages I've been averaging for the past few chapters!


	37. The Depths And Heights My Soul Can Reach

Danny opened his eyes to sheer darkness all around. He made a move to sit up but found that his body wouldn't move. Panic set in as he tried to do so much as curl his fingers only to find out they wouldn't budge. An acrid taste was filling his nose, mouth, every available orifice on him. The rational part of his mind told him to relax. He knew what was going on. There had been times when he had turned tangible while stuck in the middle of some surface. It typically only happened after a ghost fight that exhausted him to the point of wearing his powers out, and it usually resulted in finding himself buried alive under three feet worth of dirt.

This, however, was most certainly not dirt; soil was malleable, easy to escape from. He had had many experiences enjoying the cool feel from the clumps of earth moving out of the way as he ran his fingers around them, occasionally coming across worms and various bugs crawling upon his skin. Whatever he was buried under now had absolutely no give. Its weight was heavy and oppressive, and there were so signs of life to be found within its rigid presence. What little air the was to be had felt tainted and obscene. Danny forced himself to relax his posture and concentrate. Closing his eyes, he struggled against the claustrophobia setting in, and turned intangible. Then, holding his breath, he forced his body to rise.

Within moments he was on the surface, flailing in his fumbled attempts to sit up. Getting to his hands and knees, he began to sputter and cough heavily, retching out the remains of the pervasive material that had seeped into his body. When he had calmed down, he opened his eyes to find himself kneeling at the concrete parking lot of the hospital. He raised his blue eyes up to the building and found it standing tall against the night blue sky.

It had been early afternoon when he had fought Spectra. That meant he had been trapped within the cement all day.

Unsteadily, Danny got on bended knee, testing to see if his limbs worked properly. He seemed steady enough. Cautiously, he moved to stand up straight. His legs shook with the effort, and he collapsed down on the ground again, on the floor of the empty parking lot. An unmitigated sob escaped his throat. He couldn't remember the last time he had been driven to such a level of helplessness. How on earth had Spectra become so powerful? How could he have been so blind – he knew she had disappeared from the Ghost Zone, had heard the Guys in White claim that the hospital was riddled with ectoplasmic energy – 'off the charts' had been their exact words; how could he have failed to put two and two together?

He returned his eyes to the tall white monument. The floor he had been thrown out appeared normal; there were no missing walls, no black, tar-like substance dripping down. Somewhere in that building, Spectra walked, sucking away at the ripples of negative energy that curled up from the people bound behind the walls. And Danny hadn't stopped it. It was, perhaps, his biggest failure, even more so than his inability to save Kwan, for he had delivered the other boy right into her clutches.

Danny drooped, defeated. Almost in response, the shoddy lighting behind him flickered and went out, leaving him in darkness.

* * *

Danny's bedroom was completely dark when he staggered inside later that night. After managing to get his legs back into working order, he had opted to walk back home rather than go for the easier option of flying. After what had happened in the hospital, he didn't feel much like transforming into his ghost half right then. Plus, he had reasoned after nearly falling over for the fourth time on the way back, it would help get his limbs back to normal. They still felt heavy and burdensome as he stepped into the shower late that night. Turning intangible may have removed the remains of the cement that had scraped off on him, but he still felt polluted inside.

Twisting the shower tap on, he allowed the warm water to rinse his skin, matting his hair down over his face. Now that they had gotten him as far as his bedroom, his legs took this state of rest as signal to shut down once again. Unable to feel any longer, he allowed his legs to draw him downwards, carefully folding under his weight. He pressed his back against the wall of the shower stall, the feel of the cool glass spiking against his nerves. The warm water beat down on him, and he stared unseeingly up at a corner of the ceiling.

Almost an hour passed by with Danny in this suspended state. By the time he regained enough strength and presence of mind to shoot his arm up and twist the tap back around, his skin had begun to prune under the constant flow of water. He waited several more minutes, sitting on the floor of the small shower stall, before rising up again.

The mist from the hot water had clouded the entire room by this point. Danny could hardly even make out his reflection in the mirror – not that he stopped to look. Methodically, he grabbed the towel hanging on the rack and proceeded to wipe himself down. Absently he noted that he had forgotten to bring in some clean clothes, but that was alright. The bathroom was attached to his bedroom anyway; he wouldn't be running into anyone on the way out.

Opening the door, he slowly stepped into his room. His eyes were focused yet undiscerning, not blinking once, but unable to register any of the images they took in. It was only through memory that Danny stoically made his way to the bed and sat himself down upon the edge of the mattress. He was naked, the lights were on, and the blinds were open, but he didn't care. He was alone in his bedroom on the second floor. If anyone were looking in on him, that was their own doing.

He sat there, hunched over himself, watching stray droplets of water drip down onto his thigh. Danny made no motion to wipe them away. Any strength he may have dredged up in the past few days with his newfound attitude had been solidly wiped away by Spectra.

The first strings of sunlight that pierced the window found Danny slumped on the hardwood floor at the foot of his bed, knees drawn up and locked in place by his arms. He wanted to stay in his room forever, but when the alarm clock buzzed, he knew it would be impossible. Today was the day his shop class assignment was due, and he would have to meet Tucker in Casper High to get the finished device from him.

Longingly he toyed with the idea of skipping until lunch; he would have nothing to do till then, and Tucker had surmised that he wouldn't be done until that time anyway. Before he had the chance to decide, there was a tapping on his door. Danny's eyes widened in alarm when he realized he hadn't bothered locking it after returning home that morning and blindly groped for one of the boxers left lying on the floor. He had only just managed to shuck it up his body in time when the door opened and his mother peeked in.

"Danny?" she called, flipping on the light switch in order to locate her son. "Sweetie, what are you doing on the floor?"

Danny raised himself to his feet slowly. He shook his head, trying to reassure her that he was fine while still finding his voice. "Nothing," he finally croaked. Before his mother could press further, they were interrupted by a heavy clomping as Sam strolled into the room. "Thanks, Missus Fenton," she addressed Maddie. "I can take it from here."

Maddie shot her son another concerned look before nodding and sliding out the room. Sam closed the door behind her and turned to Danny.

"What—" Danny cleared his throat in attempt to get rid of the raspiness that had settled over his vocal chords from disuse. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you went to school!" Sam exclaimed. "Danny, Lancer is all over your ass – he told me you haven't shown up for classes in days!" She made sure to keep her voice low enough so that his parents wouldn't overhear. "I told him you were probably studying at home or something," she continued. "Tell me I was right."

Danny blinked.

Sam sighed. "Tuck told me he's doing some assignment for you – is that true?"

"No." Sam raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "It's not!" Danny protested. "I mean – yes, okay, he's doing some stuff for me for shop class, but that's only because he knows his way around mechanics and all those gears and stuff; but I was the one who made the clock!"

"Okay, well," Sam gestured to his unclothed form awkwardly, "get dressed. I'm not going to let you skip out on another day."

"I wasn't going to," Danny muttered, ignoring the fact that he had been on the verge of doing just that. He grabbed a shirt, likely in need of a wash, off the floor and threw it on before jumping into an equally rumpled pair of jeans, topping it off with a brush of the hand through his thick hair in attempt to give some semblance of neatness. Sam's lips quirked up in an amused smile at the display.

Trudging downstairs, Danny made sure to keep his eyes averted from his mother's as she absently stirred her coffee with a teaspoon. Sam waved goodbye and led her friend out the door and closed it behind her. Danny was about to slide in to the driver's seat but paused when Sam raised her hand to signal him to halt.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" she questioned.

"What?" Danny had not been expecting the question.

"I can see the bags under your eyes all the way here," she told him. "You're in no condition to drive – here, let me—"

Danny pulled his car keys towards his body protectively. "What are you doing?" he asked loudly. "You don't have a license!"

"Sure I do," Sam said easily, pulling out her wallet and holding it up for him to see.

"When did you get that?" Danny asked. "I thought you failed your driving test on purpose because you didn't want your parents to buy you a Beemer?"

"Well, that'd be pretty stupid of me, wouldn't it?" Sam retorted, slipping her wallet back into her backpack. "I aced my driving test; I just didn't tell them. Now give me your keys."

"You don't know how to drive my car," Danny protested.

Sam shrugged. "It can't be that hard. It's not like it's a stick. Now hurry up ... unless you want to fly us to school?"

That was the last thing Danny wanted, but he didn't tell her why. Instead, he held out the car keys resignedly for her to take. "Be careful," he warned. "My dad will have a conniption if this thing gets damaged."

Sam's only response was to eagerly snatch the keys from his fingers and shove him out of the way. Danny slid into the passenger seat with no small amount of trepidation. For the first few minutes, he was hyper-alert of everything Sam did, but when it got through his brain that she hadn't landed them in a ditch somewhere yet, he allowed himself to relax, and almost immediately found his body melting against the upholstery. Sam was chattering on about something or other the entire time, but he ignored her words in favor of staring out the window at the scenery.

When there was a lull in the conversation Sam was having with herself, Danny turned to glance at her only to find her staring at him. He realized then that she had asked him a question. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"I said," Sam repeated with an air of patience, "are you going to tell me what it is that kept you away from classes for so many days?"

"Oh," Danny resumed gazing out the window. He recalled hiking up to the top of Castle's Point and looking down upon Amity Park, his ruminations over the role he bore upon the townspeople. "Nothing, really," he hedged. He thought about his feelings for Dash, how they made his heart feel so full, remembered parking outside his house and staring wordlessly up at it, wondering what the boy was doing. "Just thinking."

Had Sam not been obliged to keep her eyes on the road, Danny was sure she would have kept staring him down until he finally caved, so he was grateful when he felt the weight of her amethyst eyes move away from him and back on to the street. She slowed down once they reached the parking lot of Casper High, her eyes darting about to find a suitable spot, then easing into one available between two cars.

"Told you I could do it," she crowed triumphantly. Danny said nothing, knowing that she had made one fatal mistake, and simply waited for her to find out what it was. Sam unsnapped the seatbelt off her body and opened the door, only for it to press up against the door of the car next to her, giving her hardly any available space to maneuver out of. Danny allowed a smirk to tear across his face, ignoring Sam's attempt to catch his eyes in a silent plea for help by staring resolutely out the windshield.

Sam huffed and twisted the key to turn on the ignition again. Unfortunately, she twisted it the wrong way and the car let out a screech of discontent.

"Sam!"

"Sorry, sorry," she hastily apologized, turning the key the correct way round before straightening her posture and attempting to regain her composure. Then she backed out of the parking space and entered once again, this time allowing herself more space to exit the vehicle. She smiled confidently as she shut off the ignition and opened the door, easily stepping out and leaning back in to smile down at Danny.

Glaring at her, Danny opened his door without even looking, already knowing that he wouldn't be able to get out from his side. Sam's victorious expression dropped away, and she slid back in with a grumble and turned the ignition on once more.

* * *

"Stop complaining, the bell hasn't even rung yet," Sam said later in the hall. Danny swung his locker shut, too tired to respond. He hadn't actually been complained, having remained silent since Sam finally managed to gauge the width of the car accurately enough for the both of them to get out, but the strange mood he had been in all morning nonetheless irked her. Danny didn't have the energy inform her that it had nothing to do with her, and had no desire to go into the details of the real reason behind his behavior either, so he just let the matter be.

Now that he was out of his room, however, he felt the edges of weariness pull at him. It would be just his luck if he fell asleep in Lancer's class. Danny shifted the weight of his heavy Calculus textbook in his arm while walking in the direction of their class. He would have liked to go down to the cafeteria beforehand in order to buy a cup of the putrid coffee they served to wake himself up further, but he knew Sam wouldn't allow him to show up late, not even if it was just homeroom.

On the way, they heard a commotion taking place in the middle of the corridor ahead of them. Students squeaked as they were unceremoniously pushed out of the path of a great lumbering beast stomping through and making a great deal of noise.

"Looks like Dash is back to his usual asshole self," Sam muttered to Danny, watching the jock march down the halls, a murderous look in his eyes. Danny didn't say anything, keeping his eyes trained on the blonde boy heading their way. Dash didn't appear to see them; in fact, he didn't seem to see much of anything; his nostrils flared out, his shoulders hunched forward, and his arms, clenched into fists, hung stiffly by his sides.

Danny watched with alarm as a redheaded freshman in glasses who failed to jump out of the way in time let out a yelp of pain as one of Dash's meaty hands reached out and practically threw him against the row of lockers to their left. Dash ignored him and moved on, letting out a growl of frustration and blindly tossing a young girl to the floor when she failed to back away from blocking his path.

Sam let out an affronted sound as Mikey Fordham, a geeky senior whom Danny had never spent much time around, was swept aside by Dash's palm to skid down the linoleum floor, but didn't have much time for anything else before they found Dash directly in front of them. Thankfully, she managed to jump to the side in time to avoid Dash's wrath, but Danny, who found himself rooted to the spot and unable to do anything more than watch his onetime secret boyfriend revert back to the characteristics of a caveman , wasn't so lucky. Dash laid his hands on Danny's bony shoulders, preparing to launch him down the aisle, and Danny jumped slightly when Dash's fingers pressed against him, feeling a sudden jolt of electricity shoot through his veins.

It seemed that Dash felt it too. Danny stared up at the huge blonde jock, unable to catch his breath from the unexpected reaction, and watched as Dash's eyes regained focus once more, realizing just who it was that he was holding between his palms. Danny gave a shudder as the warm hands pressed even tighter upon his frame. Dash stared down at him, mouth agape, and the two boys remained frozen there in the middle of the hallway, caught in each others' gaze. It occurred to Danny that this was the first time they had properly _looked_ at each other since their falling out.

Nobody said anything. The students were watching in quiet apprehension, waiting to see what would happen next. Dash's hulking form went up and down as he swallowed gulps of air, his body quieting down after the rampage it had just torn through, and Danny did the same, his body still burning up within the heat of Dash's unyielding grip and his heart beating so fast he thought it might just burst out of its cage. Absolute silence rang through the air as the two boys stared into each others' eyes.

Finally, Dash let go, setting Danny back down in a gentle manner and straightening his posture. Neither of them broke their gaze for a long moment, drawing out the encounter even further. It occurred to Danny this was the first time he had looked at Dash properly since that scene he'd walked in on at the Nasty Burger.

Dash broke their connection at last, shifting his gaze downward, as though unable to look the other boy in the eye any longer. Quietly, he sidestepped past Danny's tense figure and stoically walked down the other end of the corridor. Had Danny been able to move, had he been able to turn around, he would have seen Dash walk away rigidly, his shoulders still hunched, his fingers still clenched, but his arms swinging loosely as he moved.

Whispers started to break out amongst the students over what they had just seen. Danny stayed where he was, still not trusting his legs to move. Sam made her way over to him, her face contorted with rage. "God, what the hell is his problem?" she asked angrily. "You know, I thought he was starting to become a little more tolerable, but he's still a big fat jerk! I can't believe you had to spend every day with _that_."

Danny ignored her, feeling a dizzy wave overcome him. His body was heating up, and his heart rate had not slowed down in the slightest.

Sam hoisted Mikey to his feet, leading him over to where Danny was standing lost in his own world. "You okay, Mikey?" she asked compassionately, holding on to his frail arm.

"Y – yeah," Mikey replied, sounding almost as affected as Danny felt.

"Someone should really teach him a lesson," Sam said, glaring up at the path Dash had taken behind Danny.

"Nah," Mikey waved off her words. "He's just having a bad day. He's been lookin' ready to burst all week."

_All week_, the words swirled around in Danny's head. He remembered the disgruntled look he had seen on Dash's face in the cafeteria with Tucker on Tuesday. He had tried to convince himself it had nothing to do with him, but that _moment _... Danny hadn't thought moments like those even _existed_ in real life. When Dash had touched him, it felt as though a lightning bolt had struck him. The fog that had wrapped itself around his mind ever since his battle with Spectra last night had been all but eradicated that one moment.

It was like coming back to life.

Danny let out a sharp breath, shakily raising one hand to place over his heart. It had slowed down some, but was still beating harder than Danny could ever remember it. Sam shifted a concerned look his way. "You okay, Danny? He didn't hurt you, did he?" she asked.

Danny slowly shook his head no. Dash hadn't hurt him. Not in the least.

Mikey dusted himself off and fixed them both with a winning smile. "Well fellas," he stated, "it's been fun, but I gotta get to class."

"Us too," Sam said quickly. "Come on, Danny. Don't want to be late, do we?" She held out her hand for him to take. Danny hesitantly reached out and fit his palm over her smaller one. It felt nice, he supposed – sort of like they fit, but not really.

But it didn't feel anything like a lightning bolt.

Sam waved goodbye to Mikey and led Danny down to homeroom.

"See you at the prom!" Mikey hollered over his shoulder as he scurried in the opposite direction.

* * *

At lunchtime, Tucker found them both sitting together at their usual table in the cafeteria. "Finished!" he declared proudly, setting the clock Danny had given him in front of his eyes. Danny pulled himself out of his stupor, breaking his routine of swirling his spoon around his bowl of soup to stare blankly up at the other boy. "What's wrong?"

"He's been like this all day," Sam commented, taking a bite of her tofu burger. "I don't think he's heard a single word anyone's said to him since this morning."

Tucker sat himself down on the bench next to Danny. "Whatever," he said casually. "Now listen, I'm gonna explain to you exactly how I, Tucker Foley, the King of All That Is Awesome, got your clock to work, and I want you to repeat every single word to your class when you show it off..." and he launched into the mechanics of what he had been working on over the past day or so, hardly even stopping to catch his breath. Danny stared mutely at him as he continued to blather on.

"...and that got the gears turning, but it didn't synchronize properly, get it?" Tucker shared. "The hands were moving, but they didn't have the proper balance in order to tell time correctly. So _then_ I had to..."

Danny tuned out once more in favor of sliding his eyes over to the jock table. Once again Dash was absent, and since just about every single popular student in school were present and accounted for, chatting happily to one another, Danny doubted the boy had chosen to sit outside that day. His attention turned back to Tucker when he felt his friend shaking him by the arm. _"Danny," _he whined, "you're not _listening_! I put a lot of effort into this thing, and I want you to know how it works."

Danny closed his eyes tiredly. He appreciated the lengths to which Tucker had gone through, really, but he just couldn't deal with this right now. He had never felt so out-of-sorts with himself before. He hadn't even had the energy to drink the coffee he'd bought, which had now gone cold, let alone listen to Tucker spout some drivel he didn't even care about.

Fortunately, that was when the bell rang signalling the end of the lunch period. Danny gratefully pulled himself to stand up, and gave Tucker a hearty slap on the back to express his thanks. Then he grabbed the clock and raced over to his shop class.

He sauntered in with a whole group of students who were excitedly discussing the projects they had made. Danny held on to the clock for dear life, and set it carefully down on his work station, waiting for the teacher, Mr. Bernstein, to come in. Unable to control himself, he turned his head to glance over at Dash situated at the table directly behind him, and was surprised to find Dash looking back at him. When Dash realized he had been caught, he quickly averted his eyes and started fiddling with the tools set on the table, acting as though he were testing to make sure they were in perfect working order.

Kwan slid in through the second door at the back to take his place next to Dash, causing Danny to break his stare and turn back to the front of the class.

When the shop teacher – a man in his late fifties, Danny surmised, with hair only on the sides of his head and along his jawline – walked in, he caught Kwan's eyes and snapped his fingers to him, "Over to the front, boy." Kwan obligingly followed the order and moved to stand next to the older man.

"Now, I've been instructed by the vice-principal not to request for your assignment, considering your, er, nasty fall," Bernstein said dryly. "But just because you've already got an A in my class, don't think I'm not going to make you work for it. You're going to serve out your time as manual labor, helping any of these overachievers," he gestured to the disinterested group of students in front of him, "carry whatever projects needs to be carried over for their presentation."

"Always ready to help, sir," Kwan said just as dryly.

"Right – Foster," he stuck his thumb behind him, indicating for the student in question to come up to the front, "you're up."

Jacob Foster bounded over to stand next to Kwan and held up what looked to Danny to be a long stick with holes in it. "It's a flute," he announced to the class. "I whitted it down myself, mostly using a knife, but I had to use the tools in this class to get it to look just right. That counts, right?" he turned over to Bernstein for confirmation. Receiving no response, he raised the instrument to his lips and started to play it, stopping and starting every few seconds to rearrange the position of his lips or to suck in a deep lungfuls to catch his breath before resuming his sonata.

"Terrible, Foster, just terrible," the teacher said shortly. "You get a B."

Jacob grinned and pumped his arm into the air in victory, practically bouncing all the way back to his seat.

"Robson, what do you have for us?"

Kyle Robson made his way to the back of the class, where his project was stored. Students who were creating an item too large to carry home were invited to keep them at the large shelves in the back of the class, so Kwan took this as his cue to lurch forward and help the boy carry it to the front.

"It's a bookcase," Kyle stated baldly, with his arms folded behind his back.

There was a short pause where he stared silently out into the crowd and they stared silently back.

"Would you care to tell us a little more about it?" Mr. Bernstein prompted.

"Well," Kyle looked the project over with a critical eye, inspecting it as he circled around the object as though he were a connoisseur. "It's got four shelves ... pretty narrow ... I didn't have time to paint it," he concluded.

Bernstein stepped forward and looked it over. "No polish," he muttered. "Wobbles," he shook the shelf around; "you didn't even sand it properly!" he turned back to Kyle, who was watching him with wide eyes. "You cut any fingers off making this, boy?"

"Um," Kyle blinked, "no."

"B-plus," Bernstein said gruffly.

The man surveyed the students before him shrewdly. "You there," he snapped his fingers. "The one with the breasts."

Lisa Dunston, the only girl in class, made her way down, carrying a large object over her head with both arms. Kwan made to help her, but she shot him down with a nasty look. Once she had made her way to the front, she set it down in a none-too-gentle motion. "It's a chair."

"So it is," the teacher agreed. He hiked up his trousers and sat firmly down on the round seat. He contemplated its sturdiness for a moment while fingering the scraggly beard all around his jaw. Just as he was starting to look impressed, the chair's legs gave out and he fell flat onto the floor.

"Oh," Lisa said blankly. "I guess I didn't fit them in well enough."

"For _land's sakes girl_," Mr. Bernstein sputtered, struggling to sit upright after the shock of the impact. Kwan helped him to his feet, and he dusted his bottom off, fixing her with a glare. He turned back to Kwan, muttering, "Looks like you ain't the only one round here suffering nasty falls, boy." To Lisa, he simply added, "B-minus," before scouring for his next victim.

He narrowed his eyes at a boy seated at the back. "You there," he called out, scanning through his attendance list for the appropriate record, "the one named like a Kraut."

Howard Mehnke, whom Danny only knew because he was the only boy in Casper High to actually wear makeup, shuffled forward. He was dressed all in black, with his face nearly caked in white and topped off with a thick layering of black lipstick. In his arms was a misshapen ball of _something_ which he pushed into the older man's arms.

Danny watched as the thin man held it up into the light trying to make out what it was that he had in his hands. "What is it?" he finally asked.

"Birdhouse," was Mehnke's only reply.

Bernstein quirked an eyebrow. "I see. Can you tell us a little more about it?"

Howard Mehnke gazed up at him with an inscrutable expression on his face. His head tilted at an odd angle. Danny could feel a distinct air of discomfort radiating off the other man. Kwan shifted slightly, as if subconsciously trying to put some distance between himself and this strange creature. "Holds birds," Mehnke said at last.

The teacher stared at him for a long moment.

"Baxter!" he called suddenly. "Come save us!"

Dash strolled over to the back of the shop class, preparing to lift the project he'd been working on. Kwan brushed past the retreating form of Howard Mehnke to help his friend. Danny's eyes widened when he caught sight of the object. The table was impressively large, causing students that were in its way to duck their heads to avoid being hit by it. The two boys carefully set it down at the front of the class.

"Wait," Dash prompted, ambling back to his workstation. "I have one more piece." With an audible grunt, he began to lift. Kwan hurried over to help him with this extra object.'

The coffee table had a lower section with a panel of wood running between the two sets of legs. Kwan started to lower the object he and Dash held to rest in that area, but Dash quickly shook his head, indicating that he wanted to place it at the very top.

The two of them stepped back to show the creation off to the class.

Danny's jaw dropped.

The 'coffee table' Dash had made was a deep mahogany. It had a circular rim, most of which was taken up by a center made of glass. The legs, while not too intricate, displayed some impressive woodwork, designs extending outward and then curving upwards and inward again with shapes that resembled leaf patterns. And at the very top, placed from one end of the table's wooden surface and all the way to the other end, was a sculpture of a feline. It was made of the same rich timber and painted the same deep brown as the rest of the coffee table; Danny couldn't tell if it was a cougar or a panther; whichever it was, it slunk low in a prowling position, a hind leg extended backwards to rest on one end of the coffee table, and a front paw reaching forwards to rest on the other end. Its sleek body hovered over the delicate glass that took up most of the coffee table's surface, not touching it at all, and its head was turned to the audience with its mouth open in a roar and baring sharp incisors that threatened to tear them to shreds.

There was a stunned silence throughout the class as everyone took in the sight of Dash's work. Even Mr. Bernstein appeared dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open in the shape of an _'o'_.

"Great Scott!" he thundered after a moment. "You _made_ this?"

Dash rubbed at his right calf using the sneaker that adorned his left foot. "It's not finished yet," he said awkwardly. "It _was_, but then I got inspired to make the centrepiece at the last minute. I intended for it to be a coffee table."

Mr. Bernstein circled the project several times, pulling at the hairs on his chin. "Not much space to drink coffee with this monstrosity in the way," he commented mildly.

"No, I guess not," Dash said. "I guess I sort of changed my direction at the last minute. I got the idea to add this in last week. If I had more time, I would have added a few more panels between the legs..." he toed at the singular plank of wood that connected the two legs together, "... you know, changed the position of the current legs so that I could add two more, and a row of planks in between them, make it more of a shelf that people could use store stuff; so I guess it's more of a ... magazine rack?"

Bernstein was still staring down at the piece before him, nodding along dumbly to Dash's words. Finally, he snapped his head up to take in Dash's eagerly anticipating eyes. After a moment's pause he said, "Well, I don't think there's any doubt about it, Baxter: A-plus."

Dash's face broke into an ear-splitting grin, gratified to know his work had gone over to well. He turned to the class, gracing them with his perfectly white teeth, and his eyes settled on Danny. And if Danny didn't know any better, he would have sworn that Dash's grin grew just that little bit bigger.

* * *

When Danny caught sight of his car in the parking lot at the end of the school day, he suddenly realized that Sam still had possession of his car keys. He cursed silently to himself as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and dialled Sam's number.

"Hey!" she chirped when she answered the call.

"I hope you're still in school, because you never gave me back my car keys," Danny said to her.

"Sure am," she said coyly. "Turn around."

Danny spun a full 180 degrees and found Sam grinning mischievously at him with her phone still pressed to her ear. Danny found his mouth forming a corresponding grin as he shut his off and slid it back into his pocket. Tucker came up behind Sam and nodded to Danny. "Hey man."

"Hey, Tuck," Danny said fondly.

"Well, you seem like you're in a better mood," Sam pointed out. "I take it that means shop class went well?"

Danny nodded slowly, his mind full of images of Dash and his beautiful, earnest grin. "It sure was," he responded, knowing she was referring more to his project. "All thanks to Tucker here," he acknowledged his friend, reaching out to slap skin with the other boy. "Thanks, Tuck."

"Anytime man," Tucker said, a slow smile forming on his face. "What grade did you get?"

"I got an A," Danny informed him. Tucker whooped.

"Do I rock or what?" he cheered.

"Yeah, you do. You really, really do." Danny's eyes drifted along the parking lot, noticing Dash, Kwan and Jason, one of the less prominent members of the football team, carrying out the coffee table to load into Dash's car, speaking animatedly to one another. He remembered Dash being told to take it home and display it proudly, because it was simply too good to rot within the bowels of Casper High. "It was the second-best project in the class."

Tucker's face fell slightly at this news, oblivious to the creation the jocks were supporting in their arms just behind him. "Oh well, I guess that just means it's two good two be number one," he quipped. Danny snorted in disbelief.

"So ... are you going to tell us now what had you so upset when I found you this morning?" Sam asked slyly.

Danny took in her face, curious with a glimmer of impatience lurking beneath the surface. His eyes darted to Tucker's left where Dash was leaning against his car in a relaxed pose while the other two regaled him with some story or other. The sun was especially bright that afternoon, lighting up the scene, causing Dash's skin to luminate, his hair to glow, and his wildly exuberant expression to burn into Danny's mind. His grin widened as he watched Dash throw his head back and let out a hearty, unrestrained laugh.

Dash's head rolled to the right, trying to recover, and even though he was too far away to be sure, Danny imagined the jock caught sight of him looking over at that moment. His chest puffed out, full of pride and something else for the blonde boy. He turned back to Sam and Tucker. "Yeah," he said finally, realizing he was at last ready to tell them about his fight with Spectra. _You're not going to be the one to save him_, Lancer's words returned to him. What did Lancer know anyway? For the second time that day, Dash had freed him of his anchor. "Yeah, I am

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** This is actually half a chapter. While I was writing it, I realized the full thing was going to be WAY too long, so I decided to cut it in half so that it wouldn't be too time-consuming to read. I'm sorry for taking so long to update it, but it's getting to that time of the semester when assignments are due in and finals are around the corner (I'm sure you all relate). I cut it off here because this part is all about Danny/Dash and I would like to assure you all right now that **yes, this IS a Danny/Dash story!**

I know you're all terribly impatient waiting for me to get them back together, and I'm a horrible person for putting you through this, but I really want to give you a story that I'm proud of. A lot of you commented earlier on in the story that you admire the way I took my time to develop the relationship between these two characters rather than go for the 'I hate you/I love you' approach, so consider this to be the same. You can see in this chapter Danny has finally learned to overcome Lancer's words, so it's only a matter of time until a reunion. I don't want to give it away, but it's coming very soon.

Since this is a two-part chapter, expect the second half to be up very soon (within a week or so).

Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Can't wait to hear what you think!


	38. God Loves, Man Kills

"That – that – that—" Sam struggled to find the words that would accurately describe the rage she was feeling.

"I know," Danny told her.

He was standing in the middle of the basement in his house with Tucker and Sam, having just finished recounting the story of what happened at Amity General the previous night.

"She's just ... waiting there?" Sam finally managed to burst out. "Just wandering up and down the hospital feeding upon those poor innocent people?"

"And those Guys in White, don't forget them," Tucker added.

Danny shook his head. "I actually feel sorry for them. You remember what it's like having that vampire draining you for everything you're worth. No one deserves that. Not even the Guys in White. Especially not since they've already been incapacitated by the Soul Shredder."

"So what are you going to do?" Tucker asked.

"I say we barge in there and take that whore down!" Sam punched a fist into the palm of her other hand.

Danny held his hands up requesting her to calm down. "Look," he said, "telling you guys what happened really helped me, you know – it let me take a step back and take a look at this whole thing clearly. Spectra's been feeding on the people in that hospital, and the people who come in to visit them, for months now. She's gotten so powerful she actually managed to evade my ghost sense; so powerful she could actually take me down using the _walls_ of the hospital. I can't fight that."

He turned around to face the ghost portal embedded into the wall of the basement. "But I know someone who can."

Ignoring their inquiring looks, he led them over to the control panel, directing them to engage the manual lock system. "I don't know how long I'll take," he said. "First I need to get directions; then I need to get reinforcement. All in all, I'm thinking, maybe an hour? Little more? Just keep checking. You know the drill."

"Aren't you even going to tell us what you have planned?" Sam prompted.

"No," Danny said resolutely. "Not until I know it will work. Ready? One – two – three!" Two rings of pure, white light encapsulated him, travelling in opposite directions, morphing eighteen-year-old Danny Fenton into the ghostly alter-ego Danny Phantom. The doors to the Ghost Zone slide open, as though welcoming him once more into its fold.

Danny threw his arms out to his sides and plunged in. Once he got over the momentary disorientation of entering the Ghost Zone, he soared off to his destination.

* * *

"Ah, Great One!" Frostbite greeted as Danny landed upon the wasteland that made up the Ghost Zone's frozen tundra. "It has been far too long."

"It has," Danny greeted warmly. He hadn't seen Frostbite in nearly two months now. Many things had passed since then.

"Come, tell me," Frostbite ushered him inside to his cavern. "When last we spoke, you raised concerns to me about a certain power – I trust that the issue has been resolved?" Danny shivered slightly. Though his body had grown rapidly used to the environment, especially once he had gained use of his mastery over ice particles, it was still a bit of a shock to the system considering that the human world was on the verge of tipping into summer.

"Oh, yeah," Danny blushed slightly, remembering Frostbite's suggestion that his sudden inexplicable feelings for Dash had caused his powers to short out. "Turns out it wasn't a matter of the heart after all," he said. "It was a ghost. A ghost who was following me around and unknowingly blocking my ghost sense by proximity."

"I see," Frostbite nodded in a deep voice that suggested that yes, he actually _did_ see. The yeti-like creature was certainly one of the biggest enigmas Danny had found in the Ghost Zone.

"Actually, I have a bunch of questions about that," Danny told him. "I have questions about a lot of things that's happened since I last came to you, but it would take too long to explain right now, and I'm on a time limit. I'll come see you again and fill you in – but right now, I need access to the Infimap."

"Certainly, Great One," Frostbite acquiesced. "Could I perhaps ask who it is you intend to seek out?"

"I've only met him once," Danny said. "I don't know much, but I think he's the only one who can help me right now."

Frostbite pulled out the scroll of the Infimap from seemingly nowhere and handed it over. "Take it in good health," he blessed. "I will see you again, Great One."

Danny nodded his thanks, clutching the scroll, and with a final goodbye, shot off into the air.

Now there was just one more stop to make.

No one could ever accuse Skulker and Danny Phantom of being bosom buddies. However, Danny had found that when times were dire, he found a reliable ally in the hunter, and he was hoping that this would prove to be one of those times where they could put aside their differences for the greater good.

Of course, there was also a very reasonable chance Skulker would decide he didn't care about getting rid of Penelope Spectra and try to blast him to bits, but Danny was prepared to take his chances.

Skulker's lair, as staked out by the ghostly hunter himself, was one of many castles gathered within the Ghost Zone. Its design and location led Danny to strongly believe that it had once been one of the many properties claimed by – and probably created for – Pariah Dark. These days, however, they were free game to whomever dared to take them, and only the fearless, or those with something to prove, dared take up the threat of living in one of the fortresses placed so close to the eternal resting place of the Ghost King.

Danny himself had had the misfortune of being inside a few times in his life, but he knew already to stick to the golden rule of remaining in his human form. Pariah's old fortresses were booby-trapped to the hilt.

It was eerily quiet inside, so much so that Danny thought he may actually been able to distinguish the drone of white noise around him. Several gigantic doorways greeted as he stepped through the main foyer, each and every one of them barred shut. The doors loomed so large over him that the planks that sealed them shut would only be accessible to him were he some ten feet taller.

Hesitantly, he placed his fingertips lightly against the surface of the door. His suspicions were confirmed when, from the recesses of the great hall, a gigantic arrow, large enough to skewer a man his size whole, shot through the air to pierce through his fragile wrist. Following the angle of trajectory, Danny tried to find where the weapon had come from, but the ceiling rose so high that he found the walls around him simply faded upwards into black oblivion.

His eyes scanned through the foyer, until he found, through another doorway a great archway of steps leading upwards into an unknown location. He started forward, but had taken no more than three steps before pressing down on a trick panel hidden on the floor. Green spikes five feet tall and billowing ectoplasmic energy jutted out, sinking deep into Danny's body. He stared, then shook his head and continued on.

The archway was massive. Danny stared at the number of steps constructed in front of him. He couldn't even see all the way to the top. Shaking his head, he glanced around the area once more, but still could not find any other door. With a hefty sigh, he resigned himself to the fact that he would merely have to climb.

The archway was made of red stone; the steps were narrow and crumbling, and there were no banisters for him to hold on to for support. Before he was even a quarter of the way there, Danny's legs were aching and he found himself short of breath. Danny paused with his hands braced against his kneecaps. This was impossible.

Chancing a look around, as if hoping to find Skulker hovering by somewhere watching him struggle, Danny decided to take his chances. He had gotten this far up the staircase without encountering any traps; if Skulker truly did live upstairs, surely the ghost hunter would have removed them all?

Closing his eyes, he transformed back into Danny Phantom, trading away his sore legs for a ghostly tail. Drifting along the steps, he almost certainly felt he made the right choice. And then he heard a whistling sound fill the room. Danny furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, searching out for the source of the noise. There was nothing to his left; nothing to his right. Yet it was growing closer. His eyes darted upwards, and his muscles tensed in shock, the ghostly tail giving way to legs once more. He only just managed to somersault out of the way when a large metallic blade slashed through the air to land directly where he had been standing. Had he not moved, he would have been cut in half.

No sooner did he get to his haunches did he hear another whistling sound.

"Oh, _crap_," he swore. He didn't bother looking this time; squeezing his eyes shut, he merely flew straight as fast as he could possibly go.

He let out an _"oomph!"_ of surprise when he slammed into something solid, tumbling to the ground on to his back. Danny opened his eyes blearily to see what he had flown into. A wall. He had hit the wall. Rolling his eyes, he pulled himself up and spun around. He had cleared the archway all right – what was left of it anyway. The bottom portion had fallen away, no doubt by the pressure of the gigantic booby traps; and there were many of them there. Danny counted at least fifteen of the giant blades that shattered into the rickety stone staircase. Danny checked to make sure he hadn't been nicked.

Turning back, he found himself staring into a long corridor, just as barren as the foyer below had been. Squaring his shoulders, he marched on through. There wasn't much to look at; the residents of the Ghost Zone didn't seem too keen on much decorating. Danny half-wondered how Vlad would have fared if he had been bound to live out his years here. No doubt the run-down battlements would have been refurbished with rich grandeur then.

At the other end of the hallway, there was only one door directly in front of Danny, and distinctly human-sized. This must be it. Danny closed his eyes to prepare himself for the speech he would launch into upon seeing Skulker's face. Just in case, he transformed back into his human form, then determinedly raised his hand and knocked.

After a brief moment, the door opened and a wide round orb framed by kohl-black eyeliner peeked out through a crack. The eye narrowed and the door flung open. "You!" Ember McLean shouted. "What are you doing here?"

"Okay ... was not expecting that," Danny blinked. "Um, is Skulker here?"

Ember grabbed the front of his jumpsuit with one of her gloved hands. "No, he's not," she sneered. "But that's not going to be a problem."

Danny held his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, whoa!" he cried. "I didn't come here to fight!"

"Ember? Who is that at the door?" he heard a familiar voice ask.

"Nobody!" Ember called back. "Go back to crying."

She turned her attention back to Danny, pulling him in closer until his nose brushed against her own. For a second, Danny honestly thought that she might bite him, but then the door opened wider and a girl in a red outfit and layered green hair stepped out.

"Is it ... oh!" she appeared startled upon catching sight of Danny.

"Get back in the house, Kitty," Ember ordered. "I'll take care of this bozo."

Kitty ignored her, breaking Ember's iron grip and separating the two of them. "What are you doing here?' she asked Danny.

"Um, I'm here to see Skulker," Danny explained, brushing a hand through his thick white hair. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"None of your business!" Ember barked. Kitty shushed her with a reprimanding tone, and gestured for Danny to come inside.

"He's not welcome in our house!" Ember protested even as she moved aside to allow Danny room to walk through.

"Oh, Ember," Kitty reprimanded softly, "he's not so bad. Be a little more hospitable."

"Hospitable – I allow you to stay here, don't I?" Ember muttered to herself, closing the door behind them.

This room, unlike the rest, was sparsely decorated. There was a table, a couch, a ratty old rug strewn haphazardly a few feet away, and not much else. There was also something strange about the ambiance of the room that Danny could not place his finger on. A window on the other side of the wall provided a view into the swirling green vortex that encapsulated the Ghost Zone. Sitting on the couch, Danny found to some surprise, was Desiree; and lying by her feet, Danny was even more surprised to note, was Wulf.

The mongrel raised itself onto its hind legs upon catching sight of Danny, and launched itself at him. Danny tried to brace himself for the impact, but was easily toppled over by the overgrown beast and let out a small laugh at the round of face-licking he was treated to. "Friend!"

He patted Wulf on the back and got back up again. Desiree's eyes were fixed upon him in a calculative manner. Danny turned his attention back to Kitty and Ember who were standing by his side. "What's going on here?" he blurted. He remembered Ember telling him that Desiree had been living with her for a while now, but why were Kitty and Wulf here? Why were they _here_, in Skulker's home?

Kitty made her way back over to the couch. "We thought you were Johnny," she said by means of explanation.

"Johnny?" Danny repeated.

"_Jes __ŝi estas kaŝanta!"_ Wulf stated, glancing over to Kitty then back to him. Danny turned confused eyes over to Ember, hoping she would translate. Ember glared, but then rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, joining Kitty and Desiree over at the couch.

"He said that Kitty is hiding away from Johnny," she clarified. "That's why she's staying here."

"Wait, I don't understand," Danny was completely lost. "Why are you hiding from Johnny?"

Ember slapped her hand down on the arm of the couch, turning fierce eyes onto Danny once again. "You know what, who are you to ask questions, ghost kid? You come in here to _my_ home—"

"I thought this was Skulker's home?" Danny pointed out, more to shut her up than anything else.

"Skulker and Ember have been dating for years now," Desiree spoke up. "You should hear them going at it, I fear that the entire palace may come crumbling down upon our heads—"

"Shut up!" Ember said. "We are _not_ dating."

"You make regular excursions into the human world together," Desiree reminded. "I frequently observe him holding you for reasons that do not lead to coitus—"

"We're _not dating_!" Ember said loudly, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. To Danny, she said in an almost apologetic tone, "He just fits between my legs really well."

"Oh, gross!" Danny gagged at the image of Skulker – the _true_ Skulker, the little green blob that didn't even measure up past Danny's knees – in bed between Ember's spread legs.

Ember glowered for a moment, but then her face was overtaken by a vindictive smile. "Well, what would you know about it?" she said silkily, turning to Kitty and Desiree. "Skulker tells me that our little ghost kid here doesn't _go_ for those of the female persuasion."

Kitty frowned, trying to understand what Ember meant, but Desiree simply snorted disdainfully. "I could have seen that coming."

"Excuse me?" Danny blushed, outraged. He stepped closer to Ember, hoping to intimidate her into silence, but Ember simply grinned ever more maliciously.

"Oh yeah," she toyed. "You wouldn't _believe_ what Skulker caught him doing one day. In _public_ too."

"Ember, I'm warning you," Danny said threateningly. He knew exactly what incident she was referring to. He couldn't explain what had been going through his mind that afternoon; as far as he could tell, it had been a clashing of all the pressure of school, ghost hunting, his sexuality, and finding himself being watched by not only the government but by Skulker as well, whom he knew had been tailing him for days before, resulting a rash, impulsive, _stupid_ move fuelled by his anger and frustration.

"He was—"

"He didn't _catch_ me doing anything, he'd been _spying_ on me!" Danny said loudly, hoping to drown out Ember's voice. He fixed her with a glare. "Where is he, Ember?"

"Out," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders. "Probably with Technus, I don't know. Find him if you're so interested."

"What's he doing with Technus?" Danny asked, ignoring the fact that she had just admitted to not knowing anything. Ember gave him a withering look, as if he were an idiot on top of being a nuisance.

"Probably trying to find some way to—" Ember silenced Kitty with a slap to the arm, but it was too late. Danny pounced.

"Find some way to what?" he urged, leaning over the arm of the couch.

"_Ili estas prov trovi vojon savi nin. __Ili estas herooj!"_ Wulf said enthusiastically behind Danny, nodding his head and wagging his tail. Danny turned to the group of girls again.

"Anyone wanna translate that for me?"

"No," Ember said sourly, folding her arms over her chest and staring resolutely at the wall ahead of her.

"Ember, we might as well tell him," Kitty whispered. "He could help us!"

"We don't need him, I told you already—" Ember started to say, but Kitty leaned past her to land her large, hopeful eyes on Danny.

"He said, 'They're trying to find a way to save the Ghost Zone. They're heroes!'" she told him.

"Kitty!" Ember howled.

"Save the Ghost Zone from what?"

"From what?" Desiree exclaimed from the far end of the couch. "From that damned prophecy we showed you, of course! Have you forgotten the words inscribed upon the Rock we brought you to see?"

No, Danny hadn't forgotten, but he had to admit, he hadn't given it much thought. Since then, the Guys in White had rolled into town and taken up most of his attention.

"But I thought you guys were going after the Plasmius soul?" Danny reminded.

"Are you prepared to give it up?" Ember questioned him.

"No."

"Of course not," she rolled her eyes. "Well, what do you expect us to do then? Just wait for you to hand it to us? I think you've made it pretty obvious _that's_ not going to happen."

"Not all the ghosts were resting their hopes on getting the Plasmius soul, Danny," Kitty said earnestly. "The ones who went after it make up only a small percentage. After we discovered the inscription on the Rock, the Ghost Zone split over into many factions; each group trying to find some way to avert the crisis."

"Of course, not knowing exactly what that crisis _is_ doesn't help very much," Desiree added.

"Some went after it, trying to gain power," Kitty continued. "The theory was that Plasmius – and you – aren't completely ghosts; if your ghost halves were separated, then we could nominate someone to absorb it and gain some extra power. Power enough to stop whatever is coming and save the Ghost Zone. We knew we couldn't get yours – but when we heard that Vlad had actually separated his ghost half, _voluntarily_ ... well, we decided it was fair game."

"Fair game," Danny echoed.

"Why not?" Ember stated. "It's not like we forced him to separate his half. No ghost would ever do that. Can you imagine? Forcing another ghost to get part with their power so that we could use it instead?" she shuddered. "It's like ... cannibalism. _But_ since he was gracious enough to do the deed for us, why shouldn't we go for it?"

"It was for the good of everyone," Kitty nodded. "But when we couldn't get it off you, we were ready to give up – but then Walker came along ... we didn't even realize he knew what was going on; he spends all his time hidden away in that prison of his. He told us he had a plan to get it off you, and he wanted as many ghosts as he could get. He had Wulf here release ghosts into your town to try and mark out all your defences..."

"_Il diris al mi estas homojn liberig,"_ Wulf said mournfully, ears drooping down.

"'He told me I was liberating them'," Ember sighed, not even waiting for Danny to ask for a translation. Her arms were still folded around her and she was still staring at the wall, extremely unhappy with Kitty's revelations.

Danny nodded, recalling the gigantic ghosts he had encountered in the mall and the one that had drifted by during Paulina's party, understanding now where they had come from. Walker had been trying to map out his weaknesses in preparation for his attack.

"Like I said," Kitty told him, "not all the ghosts wanted to go after Plasmius's ghost half. Some tried to find other means of salvation, some decided to hold back and see what would happen, and some decided to hide away in the human world and wait it out."

"Like Spectra," Danny mused.

The three ghosts turned wide eyes on to him.

"You found her?" Ember asked, startled by this piece of information.

Danny paused. "You didn't know where she was?"

"Nobody has heard from Spectra in months," Desiree volunteered. "She disappeared almost immediately after news of the inscription broke out."

"Yeah, well, she's hiding in Amity Park," Danny said darkly. "Hiding, waiting – biding her time; she thinks that once whatever it is that you guys are waiting for has happened, she'll be free to come back and feed on the misery that'll be running rampant all around the Ghost Zone."

"She will not be suckling upon _my_ misery!" Desiree declared loudly.

The other four turned their heads to stare at her blankly.

"That's what I came here to talk to Skulker about, actually," Danny pressed on. "Until she decides to come back to the Ghost Zone, she's setting up camp in _my _town; I need to get her out, and I need his help for that."

"Why don't you just zap her into your little thermos like you usually do?" Ember asked.

"I..." Danny rubbed at his shoulder in embarrassment, "...don't think that will work. She's been leeching off the misery of the people in my town for months. She's too powerful right now. Before I can trap her in, I need to weaken her."

"Yeah well, fat chance, ghost kid," Ember jeered. "It's every man for himself. If Spectra found someplace to hide, then I say good for her."

"Look," Danny flared up, "I've helped you guys plenty of times over the years. It's not like I seek you out on purpose – you guys keep coming to _me_. I'm just trying to keep the balance here. You have your world; I have mine."

Ember jumped to her feet and stamped her foot. "Don't you get it, ghost kid? Your stupid rules don't matter anymore. Even Walker's given them up. We're at war here!"

Danny had assumed a defensive position as soon as she got to her feet. Ember wasn't the most stable person when she got angry, but deciding that she wasn't going to start pummelling him right then and there, Danny relaxed his stance. "What do you mean? What's Walker doing?'

"Ever since he failed to get the Plasmius soul from you, he's been hiding himself inside his prison," Kitty explained. "He won't listen to anyone. He refuses to take any of the prisoners he let out back in for sanctuary. He kicked Bullet out and told him to report back for duty if he survived whatever was coming." Kitty tried to steal a look from Ember's impassive face, but Ember wouldn't look at her. "And he hasn't responded to any of Skulker's attempts to contact him so that they can discuss alternate plans on how to protect the Ghost Zone."

Danny's eyes narrowed contemplatively. This was news. It seemed a lot of things had changed in the Ghost Zone as well.

"If Skulker isn't working with Walker anymore," he said slowly, locking eyes with Ember, "then why has he been spying on me?"

Ember shrugged. "Like I told you, ghost kid, I don't know anything about what Skulker's up to. If he manages to find some way to save us, then good for him. Meanwhile, someone has to hold down the fort while he's gone."

"Ember here has taken up the task of offering shelter to anyone who needs it," Kitty said proudly. "So far it's only been me and Wulf, and..." she directed her eyes to a closed doorway on the other side of the room. Danny followed her line of sight.

"_Not_ him," Ember refuted. "He's on his own. The only reason he's even here in the first place is because of Desiree."

Danny frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"Desiree's new boyfriend," Ember said, giving the genie a mischievous smirk.

"He's not my boyfriend," Desiree echoed Ember's earlier sentiments, but unlike the former music idol, she sounded completely nonchalant about it. _"Slave!"_ she bellowed. "Get out here!"

There was a momentary pause, and then the door on the other end of the room creaked open. Kitty and Ember leaned forward expectantly.

Danny's jaw dropped, and he goggled at the sight before him with disbelieving eyes, torn halfway between laughter and revulsion. Clad only at the waist by a fancy piece of cloth with Arabic designs, the Box Ghost crawled slowly towards them on his hands and knees; his hat was gone, revealing a large bald patch at the top of his head, and around his neck was a simple black collar. His pudgy blue flesh jiggled as he moved, and in between his flabby pectorals was a gold chain that ran attached from one nipple to the other.

"Don't be rude, slave," Desiree admonished offhandedly when she noticed he had stopped moving. "Come here and say hello to our guest."

Danny watched, absolutely speechless, as the Box Ghost's cheeks flamed red with humiliation upon meeting Danny's eyes, but he nonetheless began crawling over to where the five of them were seated anyway.

"Perhaps he would like a seat?" Desiree suggested when the Box Ghost approached her. "It can't be very comfortable having to stand here all this time. Go _ahead_, slave," she pushed him towards Danny, who couldn't keep himself from squirming in sympathy as the Box Ghost drew close.

"Go ahead, sit," Desiree urged. "He doesn't mind."

"Um, no thanks," Danny eyed the man on his hands and knees and offering his back to him. His eyes flicked over to Desiree.

"No, go ahead. He doesn't mind – do you, slave?"

"_I am the Box Ghost,"_ the short man moaned pitifully. Ember and Desiree began to laugh.

"Why are you doing this?" Danny flicked his eyes over to Desiree.

"He came to me seeking my protection," Desiree told him, snapping her fingers and pointing at the floor at the foot of where she was seated.

"You know she can't do anything to you, right?" Danny said kindly. "I destroyed her lamp; she doesn't have any powers anymore."

"Oh, it's not that kind of protection that he was asking for," Desiree said smugly as the Box Ghost started to crawl back to her. She pulled him up onto her lap and cradled him in her arms like an overgrown baby. "Was it, slave? No," she turned liquid dark eyes back on to Danny, "he asked me for protection from a life of mediocrity. This whole business with that Rock seems to have given ghosts a chance to consider just what it is they are really looking for. You see it all the time at war; at least, I have. Men rushing to claim wives, men rushing to sire children, men making love to other men; but then," she pinched the Box Ghost's chubby blue cheek hard, "that's not what my little dirtmonger wanted, was it? Tell us what you want."

The Box Ghost raised fearful eyes to Desiree, refusing to open his mouth. Rather than grow angry for disobeying her orders, Desiree gave him a slow, proud smile, as though happy that he had not fallen for the trick. She turned back to Danny and said, "He wants a life of the exotic, don't you baby? Yes you do – he wants a life in which he can be satisfied, not just merely content – he wants a life away from that wretched Lunch Lady."

"_That bitch is crazy, yo!"_ the Box Ghost burst out finally, fixing Danny with wide, earnest eyes. His arms were wrapped around Desiree's shoulders as she held him in a show of dependency.

"It's best not to question it," Ember stated dryly to Danny as they watched Desiree make kissy noises to the man in her arms. Danny blinked and turned away, trying to get the image of a nearly naked Box Ghost being cradled like an infant out of his head. Wulf nudged Danny's cheek with his snout, and the half-ghost petted his cold nose half-heartedly.

"You said that you were staying here to hide away from Johnny," he reminded Kitty, his back turned towards her. "What happened?"

Kitty tore her eyes away from the disturbing sight of Desiree together with the Box Ghost. She let out a gloomy sigh. "Johnny and I have been fighting a lot," she admitted. "And I really can't stand him when we fight; he gets terribly angry with me."

Danny ceased his motion of petting Wulf to turn around and face the girl in surprise. "What were you fighting about?" he asked.

Kitty bit her lip, looking as though she were unsure she wanted to get into the details. "Johnny said some really nasty things to me the other day," she relented, bobbing back and forth in her seat. "So terrible they made me cry real bad, and that just seemed to make him worse. Said I had no right speakin' for 'im, preventin' him from fighting."

"Fighting?"

"For the Ghost Zone," she clarified. Danny remembered the scene at Walker's prison then, the day after Kwan had been admitted into the hospital, remembered the look on Johnny's face as Kitty declared their intention to sacrifice themselves to the coming onslaught. _"__We decided that since only one person can use the soul, we'd rather die together," _she had said.

"So why are you hiding?" he questioned. "I know Johnny, he's crazy about you; if he comes after you, it's only because he wants you back."

There was a tense silence. Kitty turned to Ember for help, but the other girl just shrugged helplessly. Even Desiree had fallen silent, and both she and the Box Ghost were watching her, waiting for her answer.

"Johnny and I," Kitty's voice broke, "we want different things. He thinks I'm crazy for wanting to sit back and wait, says that just because I'm ready to throw my afterlife away doesn't mean he is too." She hung her head low. "I love Johnny, he means the world to me; I _died_ for the guy, but ... I'm tired of hanging out here in Ghost Zone. Nobody told me I'd be stuck here in between life and death. Johnny – he thinks it's great, y'know what I mean? It's like a second chance for him; he gets to ride around on his bike, gettin' to do all the things he loves, and never having to give it up by dying again. But I wanna go over to the other side; I wanna see my family, and my friends, all the people I was supposed to meet in heaven. I just want to rest in peace." She turned watery eyes to Danny. "How can we be together if we can't agree on _that_?"

There was long drawn out period of stillness in the room. Kitty's speech had struck something in all of them; Desiree was no longer stroking the Box Ghost's scalp; the Box Ghost had slid halfway off the genie's tail to rest against her body and upon the couch cushions; Kitty was leaning against the arm of the couch, fingers linked together and trying to prevent tears from spilling; Ember still had her arms folded over her chest and was steadfastly looking down; even Wulf's tail had stopped wagging.

"And how..." Danny's voice croaked, "...how do you fit into all this?"

Ember raised her head, realizing he was speaking to her.

"If she's decided that's what she wants to do, then that's up to her," she said, sounding as though she couldn't quite breathe properly. "I'm just here to provide a place for anyone who needs it. And if they're still here when it's time to fight, then I hope they'll fight with me."

_If there is no place to hide..._

"Then we shall fight bravely," Danny quoted, "to the very end until the darkness swallows us whole."

Ember looked taken aback.

"That's what Poindexter said," she told him. The others lifted their eyes to Danny slowly. "You met Poindexter?" Danny's fingers shook.

"That's what he said to me," he swallowed a lump that formed in his throat. "Before he – before he..."

"What?" Ember asked softly.

"I don't know. Wait..." Danny dug into the pocket of his jeans, feeling around it, then pulled his hand back out and held it out to them. Clutched in his fingers, crumpled and untied, was the black cummerbund. "He said those words to me," he admitted. "And then he took this off and lay it down. And then he walked away, and..." his forehead creased faintly, remembering in vivid detail everything that happened, "...and he opened the door and stepped out. But the light, it shone down on his _so brightly_.

"And then he was gone."

Kitty and Ember were staring at him with wide eyes and shocked expressions. Ember's hands had dropped away to hang limply at her sides, and Kitty had unconsciously leaned closer and closer towards him as he released every detail. They both stood now, immobile, their faces slack. Then all at once, they rushed up against him, trying to get a closer look at the item he held in his hand. Ember snatched it out of his limp wrist, holding it close to her face. Kitty peered at it over her shoulder.

"Do you think...?"

"It looks like it."

"It looks _real_."

"It _feels_ real."

"Do you think...?"

"I don't see any other way."

"It sounds like..."

And suddenly the girls embraced each other tightly. Danny and Wulf shared apprehensive looks with one another.

"Um, what's going on?" Danny voiced.

Desiree rolled her eyes. The Box Ghost had slumped down on the floor looking stupefied, and she was no longer paying him any attention. "Oh, nothing," she drawled, "they just think he's gone to Heaven, that's all."

Danny turned to her sharply. "Heaven?"

"Bright light," Desiree pointed out in a bored tone. "Sudden disappearance. Unexplained corporeality. _Hello?_"

"Kitty, do you know what this means?" Ember gasped in an excited voice when they parted, holding up Poindexter's cummerbund. "This means that it _is_ possible ... you _can_ find release. And maybe this is the way."

Kitty turned shining eyes on to Danny. "Oh, Danny, _thank you_," she gushed. "I was only holding on to a hope until now – I didn't think it was actually _possible_..."

"Oh, for – will you listen to yourselves?" Desiree pulled herself up to her full stature in disgust. "The boy could have pulled this out of his own wardrobe! One look and suddenly you're ready to hand yourselves over to 'the divine'?" she folded her fingers to imitate air-quotations.

"How can you not believe in the divine, Desiree?" Kitty asked. "You're a genie! Until now, you used to be able to create miracles with a wave of your hand."

"Do you see what you've done?" Desiree gestured to the two other girls. "Before, they were merely philosophizing; now they're positively unshakable that this _'prophecy'_ is God's will!"

"No one has ever been able to kill a ghost before, not even the Ghost King," Kitty shot back, "and now Danny tells us Poindexter disappeared in a 'bright light', and he gives us this," she pointed to the cummerbund still being held reverently in Ember's hands. "How do you think that happened?"

Ember was completely detached from the conversation at hand. Her eyes held a greedy hunger, a wild hope. Danny never realized how desperate ghosts were to find some way of escaping the eternal sentence that had been handed down to them.

And then there was a knock on the door.

Ember snapped out of her trance with a jolt, her face losing all color. Quickly, she stuffed the cummerbund back into Danny's hand, folding his fingers over it for extra measure, and marched over to the entrance. She opened the door a crack, and snapped, "What do you want?"

"My girlfriend, for one," Danny heard a voice he instantly recognized claim in response.

"Well, she's not here. Get lost!" Ember snapped.

"Yeah, right," Johnny 13 snorted. "I know she's here, Ember; I've searched everywhere in Ghost Zone. Now get out of the way."

"Screw you, dipwad," Ember retorted. "I told you I don't have her, and even if I knew where she was, I wouldn't tell you. Stop trying to drag her down just because you're scared to spend the rest of eternity stuck with yourself." She slammed the door shut in his face.

Johnny banged on it with the side of his fist. "I know she's in there, you bitch! Gimme my girlfriend! Kitty? Kitty, I just wanna talk! Come on, it's me, Johnny!"

"She doesn't want you man, why can't you get that through your head?" Ember yelled back to him. She shook her head at Kitty, coming over to wrap a consoling arm over her the other girl's shoulder.

"Forget about him, Kitty," she said. "You got something better now. Everything you've ever dreamed of has just been proven to you, and you can _have_ it! Don't let him take your chance away."

Kitty looked forlornly over to the door, but then glanced back to Danny, still holding on to the cummerbund in his hand, then gave a small nod.

"Kitty? Kitty!" _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ "Kitty, I just wanna talk! I'm sorry, okay?"

"Don't listen, Kitty," Ember murmured soothingly, glaring in the direction of the door. "Don't listen."

\

Johnny let out an audibly frustrated growl on the other end. _"Shadow!"_

Ember's eyes widened, and she quickly abandoned Kitty to dart behind the couch to pull out her guitar from where it had been hiding out of sight. Painfully, she gripped Danny's arm. "All those times I stood and fought beside you? I'm calling it in."

To Desiree, she pointed and said, "You wanna keep living here, you'll get off that couch and help. Now."

Danny pocketed the cummerbund safely back into his jeans and transformed, a determined look on his face. Wulf joined his side, holding up dangerous-looking claws.

The world suddenly grew darker, as the natural light provided by the green vortex that permeated through the window dimmed. Danny watched dark lines emanate from the figures of the couch and the table, twisting and angling themselves as though changing with the position of a nonexistent sun, until finally, they broke free and slid through the floor and past the group surrounding Kitty to congeal together at the opposite wall, right next to the window. With a sick twist in his gut, Danny suddenly realized just what it was he found so off-putting about the room when he had initially entered it, that unnameable thing he had immediately noticed to be missing: the furniture in the room did not previously cast a shadow. Of course they wouldn't, there was no sunlight in the Ghost Zone.

Now, however, shadows loomed from every corner, rapidly coming together in one favored area on the wall, amalgamating, taking shape, until finally, they formed a hideous apparition with slitted eyes and a malicious grin. The Shadow.

"Abbott!" Ember called out to the Box Ghost, who remained cowering safely between the couch and the table, "Get your ass over here!"

"But I am the _Box Ghost_!" he wailed in response.

Ember let out a grunt, aiming the pointed end of her guitar to the wall and strumming the chords to let out a blast which served to blacken the stone, but did nothing to their leering enemy. "Four walls constitute a box – Improvise!"

Danny stopped paying attention to them, turning all his energy to the dark silhouette marring the room. All his previous battles against the Shadow had been won through the use of sunlight; how was he to fight it in a place in which sunlight didn't exist?

With a roar, the Shadow flung its arm outward, slapping both Ember and Desiree out of the way and leaving Kitty exposed. Immediately, Wulf jumped over to the other side to cover her, slashing madly at thin air. The gigantic shadow on the wall grinned lecherously, and with another sweep of its arm, sent Wulf flying into the air to land against the adjacent wall with a sickening _crack_. Danny was reminded horribly of the incident with Dash at school that morning.

"What are you doing?" he yelled over at the Box Ghost. "Get over here!"

The Box Ghost flew to his side, looking around frantically for anything he could use as an offensive weapon; but Danny had another idea. Charging up a ball of concentrated ectoplasmic energy, he hurled it at the Shadow. However, it did nothing but make it laugh and raise its arm again.

This time, Danny was ready. Grabbing on to Kitty's shoulder, he pulled her to stand behind him and, with his other arm, pushed the Box Ghost so that he stumbled forward, right in the path of the Shadow's oncoming arm. The Box Ghost let out a _"Hey!"_ of protest before being thrown right onto the coffee table, causing it to sail off into the distance with him and land on top of his frame when he crashed on to the floor.

Having bought himself another attempt with the Box Ghost's interference, Danny held up both palms and gritted his teeth, firing a large beam.

The Shadow let out a snarl of displeasure, but otherwise remained unaffected. There was nothing Danny could do it while it remained a mere outline on the wall. This time, when the Shadow's arm reached out for him, Danny knew there was no escape. He let out a cry as he was tossed like a ragdoll into the heap of his fallen comrades.

Its path to Kitty now cleared, the Shadow shot out, no longer a silhouette, but gaining form, turning into a black mass with empty eyes and an evil grin. Kitty let out a frightened sound as it circled her, zooming around her again and again and again, moving so fast that it lost all meaning of form, becoming nothing more than just a black whirlwind that surrounded, growing larger and larger, encasing her within its midst. Kitty's screams grew louder and louder the faster it went.

Danny propped himself up on one arm, letting out a groan of pain. His green eyes caught sight of the rotating spiral in front of him. This was his chance; the Shadow had given up its protection and gained mass. Danny pulled himself up and started to form another ectoplasmic ball, his hands trembling as he was worked through a cacophony of screaming coming from inside the shapeless black.

"No!"Ember cried out, her hand shooting out to stop him from firing. Danny turned to her in alarm. "You'll hurt her!"

Hurt ... Danny didn't think anything could hurt more than what Kitty was being subjected to right then. Just as how the Shadow had lost all shape and form as it worked harder and faster, growing more intense, so had Kitty's wails of terror from the prison she was encased in. Her voice had lost all sense of boundary, becoming torn and ragged, as what was once a shriek of pain became more of a plea for mercy, a broken, meaningless howl to _stop, just make it stop_.

Ember and Danny watched, helpless, as the Shadow spun faster and Kitty's pitch grew louder. Ember forgot to let go, her fingers wrapped loose and lame around Danny's wrist, both of them so deeply immersed in the torturous scene unfolding for their very eyes.

And then the Shadow let go, shooting away with a triumphant screech, flying backwards over their heads and down again to slip under the crack of the door from whence it came, taking all manner of darkness with it. Kitty slumped forward, no longer supported by the rage of its being, and did not move.

Her hands scrabbling uselessly against the cold floor, Ember finally managed to work her legs enough to dart out to her friend's side. "Kitty!" Slowly, delicately, she lay her hands upon her friend's torso and moved her so she lay on her back. Danny and Ember let out a horrified gasp at the sight that awaited them.

Danny had always known about the Shadow's powers, how it lay waste to everything it touched. He had seen his father's own Specter Speeder mauled into a state of decay only mere weeks ago, rotted to the point where it simply fell out of the sky, by just one mere passing of the Shadow through its body; but this – Danny had never seen anything quite so appalling as this.

All traces of Kitty's youthful good looks had been erased from her face and stolen away by the Shadow. In its place lay deep lines and wrinkled skin, ravages of time passed on only to those who had lived the fullest lives, the sunken, wilting features of a haggard old woman where once stood a vibrant young girl.

* * *

Once he had made sure everyone else was alright, Danny abandoned his attempts to gain an ally for his next venture in favor of taking leave. Kitty still hadn't woken up by the time he left; Ember had placed her upon the couch and hadn't left her side since, hadn't even looked at him when he said goodbye. Desiree had drifted off to her room to recuperate, taking the Box Ghost with her, so Wulf had show him out, giving him a solemn lick at the top of the ruined staircase.

Danny flew through the endless abyss of the Ghost Zone, unable to get the image of Kitty aged visage out of his head. Her entire body looked as though she had sped through ninety years in the space of a minute. The thought that Johnny had been capable to doing that to her – he must have known what he was condemning to when he sent his Shadow to attack.

Johnny had disappeared by the time Danny had opened the door, along with his monstrous abomination. Nobody searched for him; nobody cared. Danny left the group to mourn for their unfortunate friend.

Now he paused in mid-space and unrolled the Infimap. His eyes traversed along the expanse of the map, names and locations of hundreds of thousands of ghosts flashing by until he finally located the one he wanted. He raised his eyes upwards, where the swirling green rose into darker shades until it finally way to black. Of course. Only the most powerful ghosts confined themselves to the nether regions of the Ghost Zone. Clockwork and the Observants built their tower there, away from the prying eyes of other ghosts; but it was not Clockwork whom Danny sought to find.

Raising himself upwards, he drifted higher and higher, until all monuments of civilization that adorned the Ghost Zone faded from view. Higher still he went; it was getting harder to read the map; Danny's eyes glowed a supernatural glow as he grew adjusted to the darkness, his vision returning with sharp focus.

He finally found himself at the stronghold the Infimap directed him to. The stone tinted an ethereal purple against the background. Danny squared his shoulders and grabbed on to the wall, turning himself human once more and sliding through to the other side.

He could barely see anything. The entire fortress seemed to be blanketed in some kind of unnatural darkness that prevented him from seeing too far. Perhaps if he were still his ghost form he would have been better able to make his way around, but he didn't know what to expect from this place and did not want to leave himself at a disadvantage.

As he moved, his ears filled with a strange sound; it was almost as if the castle was alive and breathing. The very air around him seemed to _whoosh_ with the force of an exhalation. Danny steeled himself with his fingers clenched.

"I know you're here."

There was deep, melodic chuckle, and suddenly the darkness seemed to lift itself up from every corner of the room and rush to a point in front of him, growing deeper, yet somewhat translucent, like a black haze. The smoke shifted itself, descending to touch the ground, then rising up forming a long, lean torso; arms that extended longer than should have been possible; claw-like fingers; straight, proud shoulders; a powerful neck; and finally, a white face that looked almost like it was a painted mask, topped with purple horns that curled downwards and in. The figure's entire body was coated in what appeared to be the very fabric of the cosmos, lovingly stitched together and almost looking as though it moved, as though this thing before him was but a window to all Creation. Tendrils of what looked like black smoke moved placidly at the base of the creature.

"Danny Phantom," Nocturne greeted, his red eyes glowing and his lips drawn up in mirthful superiority.

Danny took in the sight of this apparition. He had not seen Nocturne since their first encounter back when he was fourteen years old; now the ghost loomed large over him, waiting for him to speak.

"Now look," he started. "We haven't always got along; the one time you came to Amity Park – you kicked my ass, I kicked yours; I'm hoping you'd be willing to call it even."

"What business have you with me?" Nocturne questioned, his calm voice unwavering.

Danny pulled himself up straight, eyes fixed on Nocturne's. "I need your help."

"This much I gathered," Nocturne had a way of speaking that made his words sound only as though he was stating a matter of fact, no trace of sarcasm in his voice. "Pray tell, why is it that I should help _you_?"

"Like I said – we got off on the wrong foot," Danny stated, his fingers still clenched, "but I'm hoping you'll forget all that and help me out here. Some people I know – they're having bad dreams."

"Bad dreams, you say?" Nocturne turned around and began walking away. Danny followed after him, keeping a respectful distance between them. "And you wish me now to forget the way in which you confined me in your thermos and tossed me back like a mackerel?"

"In exchange for me forgetting the fact that you started it by coming into my town and started attacking everyone in it," Danny retorted. "Why did you do it anyway?"

Nocturne threw him a half-glance over his shoulder, enough for Danny to catch a hint of the smirk on it. "Why not? After all, it's what I do."

Danny blinked. "That's it? Your excuse for putting Amity Park to sleep is that you have no excuse at all?"

Nocturne chuckled again, continuing to glide forwards. "Such an inquisitive nature. Tell me, Danny Phantom, do you know what it's like to be bestowed with great power?"

"Um," Danny gestured to himself, as if the answer was obvious. Nocturne gave a quiet laugh.

"Not power such as your own paltry abilities, ghost child, imitating gifts not meant for your to own – no, I mean _true_ power; power so grand that they make up a part of Nature herself, power so great that the world conforms to your own wishes; have you any idea of that?"

"No," Danny said petulantly. "But if you're so great, why did you need to put those weird metal helmets on everyone so that you could get more powerful then?"

"Ah, and therein lies the question; think of it, Danny Phantom – to be granted eternal life, born on the day the world was born, with no end in sight, except perhaps the day the world itself will die; bequeath with the ability to command sleep to all beings, the ability to gift them dreams; would you not eventually question why is it that you were put on this world? What purpose is it you serve?"

"I..." Danny had no answer.

"Yes, such power – truly it can only come from the breath of the gods themselves. Would you blame me for thinking myself a god, Danny Phantom?"

"I ... _yes_," Danny's skin crawled at the question. Nocturne threw his head back and laughed.

"You do not fool me, ghost child! Yes, I know what it is the ghosts fear. They believe God's hand will reach down and pick them up to be judged, and they fear it – but not I, Danny Phantom, not I! Aeons I have wandered this earth, trying to understand it all – power enough to overwhelm anyone less worthy, enduring life ... and for what? To walk amongst man and ghost for all eternity? Is there no greater fate worth waiting for?

And so I came, Danny Phantom; I came to your town and sought power. Power to elevate from the dregs of this mortal world – after all, perhaps that was all that was missing; to meet my Creator, to live by my Creator and worship my Creator, would I first have to prove to my Creator my worth? Can you blame my logic, Danny Phantom?"

"I ... no," Danny admitted.

"Understand this now, Danny Phantom, I seek no enjoyment from human pain. That is why I provide them with dreams of glory. Think ill of me in my quest for truth, if you so wish; but understand this."

"I _do_," Danny appealed. "That's why I came to you. Please, my friends ... they're suffering. The ghosts believe that whatever is coming – they think it's God's salvation; and if it is – help me, and you can tell God when you stand before Him that you saved two souls from their torment."

"Do you think they would be the first two I have saved, Danny Phantom?" Nocturne sounded amused. They had reached a door now, and he pushed it open, leading Danny inside. "No..."

Danny's eyes had to once again adjust to the darkness, but once they did, he found himself staring at a row of beds adorning each side of the wall, and on them were lines of identical creatures, short and lumpy, eyes closed and snoring calmly. Danny turned to Nocturne with curious eyes. "Sleepwalkers..."

"Lost souls," Nocturne confirmed. "Mortals who have traversed down the path of destruction and lived only as husks; I came to them and gave them merciful endings, to live with me in the way they deserve: everlasting peace."

He fixed his blank red eyes on Danny once more. "I will help you, Danny Phantom. What you say is true; I wish for all to know how I carried out that which is my Creator's will."

Danny nodded, and his eyes lingered again on the rows of stubby malformed ghosts snoring serenely.

* * *

"You understand what this means?" Nocturne asked. They were standing together in the quiet stillness of Amity General, over the prone figures of the two agents from the Guys in White confined in their catatonia. "Once I take them with me, there will be no return for them. Is this truly what you want?"

Danny thought about it. What he was about to do – it wouldn't stain his hands, but he would be responsible for the outcome all the same. He thought of these two men, trapped forever in a state of perpetual terror, doomed to benefit only the likes of Spectra as she fed upon them. Maybe he couldn't save everybody in this hospital from her, not yet – but he could grant these men some small mercy.

_There is too much fear in the world._

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. "Do it."

Nocturne nodded at him, then reached his long arms down. Danny watched, reminding himself to breathe, as those claws reached into their bodies, past the barriers of flesh and bone, as if they didn't even exist, to sink in and grasp something he couldn't see. Nocturne lowered his body, digging into the men before him until he buried to the forearms, then slowly pulled up again, carrying in either arm a short malformed ghost. They wailed and squirmed, and Nocturne drew them up against his body, folding his arms against each other to cradle them, gazing down at them lovingly, like a mother holding her newborn babes. In his arms, the two Sleepwalkers stilled their thrashing to curl up calmly against his body, their bodies going up and down as they began to breathe steadily.

And then Nocturne was gone, kicking up into the air and going through the ceiling to return back to the Ghost Zone. The room was silent again, except for the sound of the two monitors. They had flatlined, letting out a constant beeping sound. Danny slowly turned his attention back to the two men that lay on either side of him. _Sleep well_, he bade silently. Then he reached out his arms, and with two fingers, simultaneously slid both men's eyes shut.

Danny lounged in his room lethargically that night. He was swivelling round and round on the chair positioned in front of his computer, but the monitor was off. His books lay open on his desk, but he ignored them. It was a quiet night, so peaceful not even the crickets were chirping. He kept his eyes upon the starry, starry sky every time he caught sight of it during his rotations. He didn't feel like doing anything that night.

There was a knock on the door and it swung open to reveal Jack Fenton standing awkwardly upon the threshold. Danny paused, bracing his hand on the desk to halt his movements.

"Hey, sport," Jack greeted.

"Hey, dad," Danny said monotonously. Jack awkwardly took a seat at the edge of Danny's bed and patted the area next to him, inviting Danny to join him. Danny went.

"So Vlad's funeral is tomorrow," Jack started. Danny bobbed his head, avoiding his father's eyes. "And if you want to skip it, you know ... you can," Jack offered.

Danny shook his head. The thought of missing the funeral hadn't even crossed his mind. Jack accepted the decision wordlessly. They sat there in silence for a moment. Jack twiddled his thumbs.

"Danny," he broached, "I just wanted to say ... if there was anything that was bothering you – anything that you want to talk about ... I'm always here to listen."

It was a general statement, and Jack tried to say it in as neutral a voice as possible, but Danny knew he what he was referring to.

"Dad, I promise you," he locked eyes with his father. "There was nothing going on between me and Vlad. He never touched me. If he had – I would have told you about it. I swear."

Jack stared down at him for a moment, taking in his son's earnest blue eyes, and then he grabbed Danny into a fierce hug. "I love you, Danny," he murmured into his son's hair. "I love you so much, it hurts."

Danny embraced his father back, relishing the gesture. He swallowed a lump that had suddenly risen up in his throat. "I love you too, dad," he said back.

Once they parted, Jack got to his feet and gave Danny a watery smile. He ruffled Danny's hair affectionately, then departed from his room, leaving Danny alone once more.

Danny stared at the wall unseeingly. 'I love you so much, it hurts'. That's what his dad had said. Danny didn't think he knew what it meant to love someone that way, so much so that it consumed him. He thought of his parents, and how scared he had been for them when he thought their marriage was in trouble. Was that love? He thought about Sam and Tucker, how he wanted to wrap himself around them and never let them go. Was that the same kind of love? Then he thought about Dash, how full his heart felt just by the sight of the other boy's grin, thought of the yearning his body felt with Dash's absence, how his heart broke at the thought that Dash would throw him away because he hadn't found Danny's good enough.

So this is what you need to know about Danny Fenton:

He loved his family; he loved his friends; and...

"I love you, Dash."

The silence of the empty room was the only answer he got.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** You can see why I chose to end the previous chapter where I did. They differ completely in tone, the previous one light and hopeful, while this is dark and melancholic (at least, it's supposed to be; I hope I accurately portrayed that here). I hope you found this to be an eye-opening chapter, as it basically reveals the intention of the ghosts and the overall intention of this story. Don't worry, I'll try to keep the religious elements down to a minimum, but it seems to me that in a series that deals with the concepts of ghosts, life after death and the idea of God would be bound to come up sometime, and I do believe that if Butch Hartman weren't confined to the demographic appeal Nickelodeon subscribed to, he would have definitely included more of these themes into his work.

A very, _very_ special thank you to **isphira** and **Ixica** for responding to my query in Chapter 33 on where I could find the episode _Frightmare_. If not for them, this chapter wouldn't be what it is today, and I hope you liked my rendition of Nocturne. Season 3 had some really epic villains, but with characters like Nocturne who commands something as powerful as sleep, I had to question why he would care about world domination, and I tried to give it a more noble reason in this fic. No matter who you are, no matter how powerful you get, we are all left questioning our place in this world at the end of the day. For their efforts, I would like to dedicate this chapter to them, and if they are reading, I hope they enjoyed it. :)

Please let me know what you guys thought. Can't wait to read the reviews.


	39. As I Live And Breathe

It was a different Danny Fenton who opened his eyes the next morning. He remained carefully still in his bed staring tiredly up at the plain white ceiling before lifting his cellphone to look at the time. 8:30 AM. That meant he'd only had a little over three hours sleep. His rest was mercifully uninterrupted though, so rather than feeling exhausted, he simply felt worn. The memory of what he had done the previous night pressed over him like a sheet, present, persistent, yet not overwhelmingly so. This was his life. These were the decisions that had been delegated over to him to make. He knew he wasn't at fault for ending the lives of the two men in that hospital; but at the same time, it was his cross to bear.

He lay unmoving for several long minutes later. Then, deciding it wasn't worth it to stay in bed any longer, as it was evident he wouldn't be going back to sleep, he tossed off the corner of the quilt and planted his feet on the floor.

It was a beautiful morning out, Danny noted when he pulled back the curtains to look out the window. There were hardly any clouds to mar the blue sky, and the sun was shining bright. A perfect spring morning.

It was hard to believe there would be a funeral later in the day.

Danny shuffled out his room, looking up in time to see the door across his own swing open for his mother to make her exit. Maddie paused in surprise to find her son up so early, and quietly shut the door behind her.

"Morning, sweetheart," she said with a trace of concern in her voice. "Sleep well last night?"

Danny nodded, although he knew his appearance didn't say much to the fact. He always looked awful in the morning if he didn't get enough sleep, though he supposed the bags under his eyes were enough of a constant fixture that they didn't alarm his mother much anymore. "Where's dad?" he asked.

"Downstairs," Maddie pulled the robe she wore over her nightgown tightly around her frame and laced it. "He's been working on the eulogy he's going give this afternoon."

"Oh," Danny said awkwardly. He remembered hearing his parents discuss the matter when he followed them to work the day of Jack's interrogation. "How's it going?"

"You'll have to ask him, dear," Maddie sighed. "This is his project, and he hasn't let me in on it at all." She smiled through the weariness that lined her face. "Since we're all up, I'm going to cook us a big breakfast. What would you like?"

"Oh, I'm not hun—" Danny started to protest, but Maddie reached out and brushed a hand through his unruly hair, sliding her hand down to caress his face lovingly.

"You're getting so thin," she commented. "Most boys fill out as they grow older. I worry sometimes."

"You don't have to," Danny assured her quietly. "I eat enough."

"Yes, well," Maddie drew her hand back, "a mother has to worry; a boy has to eat. What would you like?"

"Eggs will be fine." Danny hadn't had a proper breakfast in years, choosing to use the extra time to sleep or catch up on his homework as best he could before school began, but he didn't have the heart to tell his mother that he had fallen too far out of the habit to truly indulge.

"You don't have school today, do you?" Maddie asked as she began her descent downstairs. Danny followed behind her.

"No," Danny said truthfully. Sam and Tucker told him after he returned from the Ghost Zone the previous evening that Casper High would be closed today; everyone in town would be going to Vlad's funeral.

They spotted Jack sitting on the couch in the living room, his eyes transfixed on the television. Littered around him and on the floor were crumpled up balls of paper, and placed on the seat next to him was a brown leather-bound book. Jack didn't seem to notice them, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

"Jack?" Maddie called. Jack jumped, turning his head to find her voice in alarm. Danny saw his figure visibly relax when he realized that it was only his wife who had interrupted him. The two of them made their way over to the lounge where Jack was sitting. "Have you been up all night working on that thing?"

"No," Jack said. "I've been watching TV on and off as well."

Danny turned to the television, where Tiffany Snow was holding on to a stack of papers and delivering the news. "...discovered the grisly sight," she was saying.

"Turn it up," Danny commanded, not taking his eyes off the screen. Jack dutifully increased the volume.

"...body of Jason Belgrave was discovered in the early hours of the morning by the apartment's superintendent, Esther Williams, who claims that she was attempting to catch him before he went to work due to non-payment of his rent. When Belgrave failed to answer the door, she entered using her set of keys, only to find the remains of her former tenant splayed out on the floor. Belgrave's body is described to have been 'mutilated', with several internal organs missing..."

"How horrible," Maddie covered her mouth with a hand in sympathy. "That poor man."

Danny felt a sick lurch in his stomach.

"...Williams stated that alarm bells were raised in her mind as Belgrave had always been a model tenant, with a tendency to pay his rent several days before the due date..."

"Organs missing," Jack shook his head. "Sounds like there's some sort of wild animal on the loose." He turned to gaze up at Maddie. "What's for breakfast?"

Maddie snapped out of her reverie at once, quickly making her way to the kitchen to start cooking. Danny, however, remained where he was, taking in the details of the bulletin. 'Belgrave was a single white male, aged 36. He had no known family members..."

Jack switched the television off, waking Danny up. "You're up early," he noted. "I thought you would have been enjoying your day off. We don't have to be there until 12."

"I could say the same to you," Danny retorted, looking down at where his dad was sitting. "Mom says you've up all night."

Jack waved a dismissive hand. "Gotta get my speech down," he said by way of explanation.

Danny nodded. "How's it going?" he questioned.

Jack shrugged, getting to his feet and stretching out his limbs. He gave Danny a wan smile. "What can you say about a guy like Vlad?" he posed.

Danny nodded along. "He was a one-of-a-kind," he told his father kindly. His eyes shifted to the leather-bound book next to Jack. "What's that?"

Jack looked over, almost as if he hadn't even realized it was there. His face split into a toothy grin. "Oh, this!" he picked up the book and cradled it in his arms. "Your mom's going to love this. It's a photo album from our old college days!"

He brought a hand to one side of his mouth. "Oh, Maddie!" he called. "Look what I got..."

And he jogged over to the kitchen. Danny spared one last look at the now blank television, and shuffled after his dad.

Jack and Maddie were standing off to one side of the stove, engrossed with the photo album in Jack's hand. Maddie was grinning sardonically down at it while Jack chattered on, reminiscing old memories with a gleam in his eye. Danny took a seat as Maddie turned to flip the eggs and quickly turned back. Jack never broke his stride.

"And here's Dougie Finnerty – you remember him? He was my first roommate, before I met Vlad," Jack told Danny. "Good guy, but too involved with his girlfriend; I could never get a moment's peace with them around! And Vlad hated his roommate, so we made a request to be put together."

Jack flipped the page. "And here you are with Marty Hoover – never did figure out what that guy's problem with me was..."

Maddie giggled girlishly. "Well, Jack, he _was_ my boyfriend at the time ... and you were flirting pretty hard."

Jack flipped the page again, and the two of them let out a faint approving murmur. "What?" Danny's curiosity was piqued. Jack turned over the book to show him the picture; it was one Danny had seen before: Jack, Maddie and Vlad, all wearing white lab coats and scrunched close together with camera-ready smiles.

"Most of these pictures are of us and Vladdy," Jack said to Maddie and Danny, and perhaps somewhat to himself as well. "It's why I dragged it out of storage." He flipped through several pages. "Didn't really help much with the inspiration while I was going through it alone, but..." he flashed Maddie a fond smile, "...I guess it's a different story when you have someone to go through the memories with."

There was a moment of quiet appreciation for Jack's words. Then Jack slipped the album shut and excused himself. It seemed that inspiration had finally struck.

* * *

For the second time in recent memory, Jack did not intend to join his family for a meal. But Danny felt a lot more positive about his absence this time around. His heart glowed warm at the memory of the secretive smiles his parents shared while going through the old photo album. Maddie seemed a lot more cheerful too. Danny was positive he even heard her hum a few bars as she clattered about the kitchen to make breakfast. Leaving her to cook in peace, Danny decided to go to his room and prepare for the funeral.

It was hard to believe that Vlad's body had been discovered by the Guys in White less than a week ago. The past six days had been some of the worst Danny had ever experienced in his life – and yet, he couldn't admit to wanting to take it back if given the chance. He felt as though he had aged a lifetime since last Saturday. In that short space of time, he had been through hell and back, with everything in his life ranging from school, Vlad, Dash, his parents and the Guys in White; and up until a few minutes ago, he had been feeling lost, but now...

He yanked the curtains apart, allowing sunlight to flood the room. He had kept the drapes firmly shut ever since the Guys in White had rolled into town, but now...

Now he felt ready to take on the world again.

After a long, luxurious shower, Danny opened the door to the adjacent bathroom, clad in only a towel. Steam billowed past as he wiped his feet on the mat to avoid getting wet footprints everywhere. He examined his closet, searching for the dark suit his parents had bought him a few years ago. He only wore it for formal occassions, and this seemed an appropriate time for it. He tossed on the shirt and trousers, and noted that while they were a little shorter, they did seem significantly baggier. Perhaps his mother had a point.

Deciding to leave the coat on the bed – it was only a little past 10:30; the funeral wouldn't be for a few more hours – he thudded downstairs and took his place at the breakfast table. Maddie had prepared a feast, but did not sit down to join her son in wolfing down pancakes.

"I'll be upstairs," she informed Danny, who was busy scooping scrambled eggs onto the topmost pancake before slathering it with maple syrup and folding it into a wrap to scarf down. "I have to take a shower and make sure your father is ready to go.'

"Go?" Danny mumbled through the disgusting concoction he had stuffed into his gullet. "Thought funeral didn't start till 2?"

"It doesn't," Maddie informed, pulling out her cellphone and typing in a quick message. "But we need to go down to the town center before then, don't we?"

Danny raised his eyebrows and noisily swallowed down the oversized bite he had taken. "The town center?" he questioned. "Why?"

Maddie smirked at the befuddled boy. "For the unveiling, of course!"

"Unveiling?" Danny blinked dumbly. "What unveiling?"

But Maddie was already making her way upstairs and did not seem to hear him, so Danny shrugged it off and scooped another hearty offering of scrambled eggs on top of the stack.

An hour or so later, the Fentons loaded themselves into the car. Jack had still not gotten his eulogy down the way he wanted it, so Maddie took the wheels while he sat in the passenger seat muttering quietly to himself. "What rhymes with 'orange'?"

"Store range," Danny said immediately, letting a wry grin play on his face.

"Jack," Maddie said warningly, "you aren't going to pass off one of your limericks as the eulogy are you?"

"Of course not," Jack rebuffed. "I just thought I'd warm up the crowd a little bit first."

Danny was surprised to find a sizable crowd milling about the town center. The center was located in the middle of Amity Park's business district, and surrounded by the public park, city hall, the mayor's office, and the shopping district. Danny quickly whipped out his phone and sent a text message to Sam and Tucker, asking them if they were around.

_Water fountain_, came Tucker's reply, referring to the circular water fountain located at the edge of the park where they often met and hung out. Telling his parents where he would be, Danny quickly escaped the crowd to find his friends.

"Did you see the crowd?" he asked in greeting when he found them lounging upon their usual bench. Tucker was fiddling around with his tie, looking most uncomfortable, while Sam lounged beside him with afashionable veil.

"That's nothing," Sam said dismissively. "Wait till you see how many show up for the funeral. I think this is going to be the biggest social event in Amity Park's history."

"You gotta hand it to Vlad," Tucker agreed. "He knows how to throw a party."

"At least it shows people still like him," Sam offered. "No matter what he did, he never alienated himself too far from the public. Unlike Michael Jackson. No one's going to care when he dies."

"I don't think that dude _can_ die," Tucker added. The three of them chuckled.

"It's so strange to think he's gone though," Danny said, taking his place between them. Tucker scooted over to allow him space, and Sam rearranged her legs to make way. "So weird to think that I saw him, _spoke_ to him, only a week ago."

A thought struck him, and he turned to Sam. "By the way, what's all this about an 'unveiling'?"

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "You mean the unveiling occurring in about..." she pretended to check her watch, "...ten minutes from now? You really need to read the papers more often Danny – didn't you know that the city's been commissioned to build a statue of Vlad commemorating him since his death?"

"What?" Danny was thoroughly confused. "Amity Park doesn't have the money for that."

"Amity Park isn't paying for it though, is it?" Tucker clarified. "The money is coming straight out of Vlad's estate."

"I thought you would have known about it before anyone else," Sam told him. "The news only broke out on Monday's paper. Didn't you say that Vlad's lawyers came to your house to discuss his will on Sunday?"

"Yeah well, no one told _me_ about it," Danny said, feeling a little disgruntled. "Wait a minute, today's Friday – how could they have managed to build a statue in such a short time if the news only came out on Monday?"

Sam shrugged. "It's amazing what a billion-dollar fortune will get you."

They sat there on the bench, enjoying the sunlight and talking about nothing in particular until they saw a fancy black car escorted by several policemen on motorbikes pass them by. Tucker got to his feet and let out a hefty yawn while stretching his limbs. "Well, that's Mayor Stubbs's car. We'd better get going."

Sam and Danny followed his lead, returning to the crowd, which had grown livelier upon witnessing the mayor's arrival. Danny spotted several people from school leaving nearby coffeeshops and joining those gathered outside.

For the first time, Danny set his sights upon a large red sheet that obstructed a large construction from view. He had had a busy week, to be sure, but he still couldn't believe that he had failed to hear that Vlad was getting his very own statue in the middle of town.

The crowd quietened down as Ida Stubbs, the wizened, aged woman who had succeeded Vlad as mayor of Amity Park, took the stand. She was old-fashioned, that much was apparent, and had built her campaign around that fact, highlighting the main difference between her and Vlad's compulsion to drag the town forward with near-futuristic technology. Just like how Vlad had appealed to the public during his election run almost four years ago, Ida Stubbs had sought to do the same by inviting Amity Park back to more traditional values. Vlad had fought furiously, but after his failure to prevent the town from succumbing further to the influence of ghosts, his campaign was of no match to Stubbs' more down-to-earth approach.

"Welcome, welcome!" she crowed out. Her accent had almost a Hepburn-esque drawl to it. "Thank you all so very much for coming to our great unveiling today. Many of you could have spent the time you were given today at home with your friends and family; yet instead you are here with me, and I thank you."

She was good, Danny had to admit. Ida Stubbs exuded a kind of charisma Vlad had never been blessed with, gaining instant supporters due to her likability where Vlad had to grub and manipulate his way into the hearts of the people.

"We are gathered on this day for one reason only," she continued, "and that is to lay to rest our most beloved, our most revered, former mayor – Vlad Masters." There was a smattering of applause from the crowd. Mayor Stubbs allowed for it to die down before ploughing on. "Now I regret to say that I never personally had the benefit of knowing the mayor," she surveyed the crowd; "the extent of my relationship with him is limited to researching his stand on the policies that affect our town; I disagreed with him; he disagreed with me."

She gave a small smile. "But what I do know is that he is one of the finest, most capable, most resourceful men I ever did come across. Indeed, he was a teacher! He taught me not only what to expect when I took office, but also passed on the benefits of his experience and expertise, without which I would not have got along as I did; and for that, he taught me what it meant to be a proper politician – a proper lady – and a proper human being!"

There was a louder burst of applause from the audience, and Danny found himself clapping along. He didn't know if Mayor Stubbs was telling the truth; from what he knew, Vlad had been bitter to the last about his defeat in the polls.

"But before we lay our dear friend to rest," Stubbs concluded, turning to the great red coat behind her, "we pay tribute to his memory, now and forevermore—" she nodded to the group of men situated around the cloth, indicating that they ought to grab on to the ropes they were standing next to and begin pulling. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you..." The veil began to undo itself, falling away from the statue underneath.

"Vlad Masters!"

Danny sucked in his breath and he took in the sight of the statue. It was larger than life, looming above them twenty feet tall, and polished white as marble. Vlad stood there, upon a pedestal emblazoned with his name; the detailing was exquisite, from the ponytail and trimmed beard, to the outline of his signature suit, to the stern frown on his face. One arm was positioned akimbo, coming to rest upon the statue's hip, while the other – the right arm – extended forward to point its index finger at some far off place.

It was breathtaking.

The applause was thunderous now, but Danny didn't join in this time, his eyes fixated upon the monument in front of him. He couldn't believe this was the result of less than five days work.

Mayor Stubbs began talking again, but Danny couldn't hear her. He found himself completely awestruck by the sight before him, and was only nudged out of his thoughts by Sam elbowing him in the shoulder.

"Come on, Danny!" she said. "We're going to the church now. The funeral's going to begin."

Danny checked the time on his cellphone. "The funeral doesn't begin for another hour," he reminded. "It doesn't take that long to get to the church." For some reason , he found that he didn't want to leave the statue just yet.

"It will with traffic backed up like this," Sam gestured to the crowd dispersing all around them. "Come on!"

Danny remained where he was. "Maybe I'll just catch up with you guys there," he said uncertainly, glancing back at the statue. Sam and Tucker shared a look with each other.

"Dude," Tucker said gently, "I know today's gonna be hard for you – but I don't think your parents want to be alone right now." He nodded over to where Jack and Maddie stood, conversing quietly with one another. Danny bit his lip, giving the statue a lingering look.

"I guess you're right," he said. "I'm just being stupid."

Sam put a consoling arm on his shoulder. "You can look at that statue another day," she told him. "Right now you've got to say goodbye to Vlad."

Feeling bolstered by her words, Danny gave her a watery smile and nodded, plodding away to join his parents. Jack clapped him on the back as a sign of welcome, and the three Fentons headed back to the car.

* * *

Sam was right; the church was packed. Had Jack not been the one scheduled to deliver the eulogy, Danny doubted they would have been able to even get inside. "What did they do, sell tickets?" Danny muttered under his breath when he found Sam and Tucker again.

"Almost," Sam informed grimly. "My dad managed to reserve us a pew days beforehand."

The three of them were waiting, along with what seemed like most of the people in town, outside His Shining Grace, Amity Park's premiere Catholic church, where the service was to be held.

"I don't think we can get in," Tucker pouted, looking over the mass of people.

It was sickening. Danny watched as families chatted merrily with one another as they set down blankets upon the grass to settle on. Children laughed and chased each other through the legs of their parents. His eyes narrowed with dislike as he watched one girl talking on her cellphone while she painted her nails. If not for the fact that most were clad in black, Danny would have thought they were gathered for a celebration, not a funeral.

"Don't worry," Maddie reassured Tucker's parents. "If you stick with us, I'm sure you'll be able to get inside."

Danny checked his cellphone again. Despite the odds, they had made it with plenty of time to spare; the doors would not be opened for another ten minutes.

"Come on," he muttered to no one in particular. "Let's go stand under a tree. I'm burning up in this suit."

Jack and Maddie apparently thought this was a good idea, for they quickly followed Danny in his search for some shade, pausing only when they thought they heard someone calling Jack's name.

"Jack! Jack!" a voice in the distance hollered. "Hey, _Fenton!_" The three of them turned around, hardly believing that someone would be capable of such a ruckus, even on a day like this. Danny spotted someone with long black hair running to catch up with them.

"Look, Maddie!" Jack said excitedly. "It's Harry – Harry Chin!"

Harriet Chin, one of his parents old college mates, was surprisingly steady even in her platform heels as she rushed to greet them. Danny stared. Unlike almost everyone around them, Harry had chosen to forgo the traditional black in favor of a garish lime-green suit instead. Clutched tightly in her hand was a microphone with the logo for Channel 6 brandished across it.

"Ja-a-a-ck," she cooed as she drew close, her stiff posture in complete odds with the overly-friendly grin on her face. "It's been too long."

"Hello, Harry," Jack said a little less enthusiastically, apparently just as thrown off as Danny was by her bright outfit. "Things going well?"

"Super," she chirped. "Not for poor Vlad though – terrible, terrible. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, well, we're all too young, I guess," Jack's eyes drifted down to take in the microphone in Harriet's hand, but didn't say anything. Maddie, though, was making no effort to hide the frown of displeasure on her face. Harry gave a fake laugh.

"Not Vlad though, he's always passed off as, shall we say, _mature_ for his age – what with that white hair and all. Of course, at least he can say he made his mark on this world, what with that new statue they built for him downtown, and all that money – which, as I hear it, he's passed over to your son here," she reached out and ruffled Danny's hair, to his chagrin, before turning to Maddie with a bright grin, "and _dear_ Maddie, of course." She turned her attention back to Jack once more. "Your thoughts?"

Before Jack could open his mouth, Maddie let out a correspondingly fake laugh in response. "Harriet, _dear_," she said scathingly, "need I remind you that we are at a _funeral_ for one of our _dear_ friends? If there were ever a chance for you to act with a little dignity, it's this one, and I suggest you take it, _dear_." With that, she placed a firm hand on Danny and Jack's backs and ushered them away.

"Wonder what's gotten into old Harry," Jack mused. "You'd think she didn't even care Vladdy was gone from the way she was acting."

Danny was sure to give his mother an appreciative smile on his father's behalf, which she returned in full.

There didn't seem to be any shady places available; most of the good spots had been taken by those who had the foresight to come early while the rest of the town was preoccupied with the statue's unveiling. More as a way to distract himself than anything else, Danny surveyed the grounds, from the large brick church with its slanted roof, to the concrete parking lot, and over to the graveyard, which was probably the only area in the vicinity not currently occupied by noisy families. At first glance, Danny simply passed over the solitary figure standing beneath one of the trees in the graveyard, then doubled back in surprise.

Checking to make sure no one was watching him, he squinted into the distance, forcing his eyes to flash green; his ghost half's eyesight was far better than his own. Slowly the man in the distance started to come into focus, the black silhouette gaining color and features. When the loner came gained full distinctiveness, Danny reared his head back in shock.

He searched out for Sam and Tucker, who were milling about with their parents. Sam was trying her hardest to pull her head away from her mother's iron grip as Pamela Manson licked at a bit of tissue before methodically rubbing at her daughter's face. Deciding he couldn't count on them for support at the moment, Danny broke away from his parents to march up to the man waiting in the graveyard. Agent M's words on the day of his father's interrogation came rushing back to him in an instant.

_The albino_.

"How do you do?" the man asked politely as Danny grew closer. "Lovely day we're having, isn't it?"

"What are you doing here?" Danny gritted out.

"Me? Why, I'm simply enjoying the sights," the man replied in an infuriatingly calm manner. He watched as Danny's hands clenched into fists. "Temper, temper," he tutted. "We wouldn't want to cause a scene, now, would we?"

"Look—" Danny burst out. "I am _not_ in the mood to play games. Whatever it is you're planning, just forget about it and walk away while you still have the chance."

"There, there, little on," the man before him said in a falsely soothing voice. "There's no need to raise your tail so high; I simply came to pay my respects to our Vlad Masters. After all, it's not every day you get to see a ghost die." Danny paused. "Surprised, boy? Why should you be? After all, I know everything there is to know about ghosts." An evil grin revealed itself slowly upon the man's greyish face.

Danny pulled away, taking a step back. The man made no move to advance in on him, but Danny was nonetheless rattled by his presence. "Stay away," Danny told him. "You've been warned."

And then he turned around and strode quickly back to the awaiting crowd, trying his level best not to break into a run. On the way there, he pulled his cellphone out of his coat pocket and quickly typed a message containing only one word to Sam and Tucker.

_Freakshow_.

* * *

Danny hardly heard a word the priest said. He was seated in the front row with his parents to his left and the Foleys' to the right of him. His arms were folded over his chest and he stared down at the red carpeting that ran across the stage where Father Julian was delivering his opening sermon. From the pew directly behind him, where the Mansons' were seated, he could feel Sam's curious gaze prickling into the back of his neck.

Adverse to organized religion though he was, Danny had always found there to be something mystifyingly beautiful about churches. Golden sunlight turned purple as it streamed through stained glass windows depicting the saints; by Father Julian's right ear hung an image of Jesus upon the cross; red tapestries ran on either side of the walls portraying so many rich images upon their banner that Danny didn't even know where to start looking; but he wasn't looking; his thoughts were consumed by his earlier encounter.

So the Guys in White knew that Freakshow had escaped. Why had they not done anything about it? How was it possible for Freakshow to travel all the way to Amity Park between Wednesday, the day that Pelham had received the news that they lost communication their base unit in Washington, and Friday so quickly?

Danny sat upright, his mind playing over the hurried conversation between Agent M and Agent Pelham only a few days ago. They had mentioned a name. A name that was now chillingly familiar to Danny Fenton. He elbowed Tucker to get his attention. "Do you have your PDA with you?" he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. Tucker turned curious eyes on him.

"Of course," he said. "Why?"

"I need you to go online," Danny told him, keeping an eye out that Father Julian didn't catch them talking.

"Danny," Tucker admonished quietly. "We're in the middle of a funeral!"

"Just do it!" Danny whispered urgently. Tucker complied, sinking low in his seat and pulling out the device. Mr. Foley frowned at his son, but didn't say anything, not wanting to interrupt the service.

"I need you to look up a name," Danny continued, darting his eyes between Tucker and the priest. "Look up the name 'Belgrave' – 'Jason Belgrave'."

Tucker typed in the text quickly, using the edge of his fingernail as a substitute for his stylus. "Got it," he whispered. "Jason Belgrave on Most Recent News: discovered in the early hours of the morning ... Esther Williams ... oh, gross, Danny!"

"Where does it say he was from?" Danny breathed, still keeping his eyes carefully focused on the robed man addressing the parishioners.

Tucker scrolled down. "Washington. Why?"

But Danny slumped back in his seat and gave no answer. His mind was whirring.

So Jason Belgrave had been a Guy in White based in Washington. While the rest of the team had relocated to Amity Park to investigate Kwan's mysterious accident, he had been placed in charge of Freakshow back in the bureau's headquarters. It was on Wednesday that the Guys in White had realized they'd lost contact with him. But why _him_? What was so important about getting in contact with Jason Belgrave over everyone else?

"_...as I walk through the valley of the shadow..."_

How could Freakshow have possibly travelled all the way from Washington D.C. to Amity Park in such a short space of time? If Jason Belgrave's remains had only been discovered earlier this morning, he couldn't have been murdered too long ago. And if Freakshow had indeed murdered him before escaping the hold the Guys in White had him in, why was his body discovered in his apartment rather than headquarters?

"_...thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me..."_

And suddenly Danny understood. Agent Pelham had given him the answer even before Danny had known the question. _"We even got our own ghost portal now,"_ – hadn't that been what he'd said to Jack? A ghost portal based on the designs of the one in the Fenton's basement, which the Guys in White had acquired years ago, back when Danny and his family had briefly moved to the rich side of town.

Tucker stepped on his foot hard, and Danny was brought back to the present. He sat upright, realizing that the sermon was over. "_Amen,"_ he said quickly, the last person in the room to do so. He thought he heard a brief snigger from somewhere in the congregation. Jack got to his feet, and Maddie slid over to cover his spot and allow the rest of people seated at the pew more room to stretch out.

Jack took over the priest's place at the podium, holding tightly on to a stack of papers as though his life depended on it. He stared out at the mass of people gathered around with wide eyes for a moment, flicking over to look at the even bigger mob waiting outside trying anxiously to hear what he was about to say. Danny saw him visibly gulp. There was another long stretch of silence as everyone waited for Jack to begin. Someone in the room coughed.

"_Vladdy_—" Jack's voice came out as an unnaturally high-pitched squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Vladdy and I went back a long way; we first met in college, and well ... the rest, you can say, is history." Without his gloves on, it was easy to see his fingers shaking as he grappled with the pile of papers in his hands. "What can you say about a guy like Vlad? Well..." Jack leaned in close, his forehead creasing as he struggled to read his handwriting. "He – he was my best friend, and..."

"Mayday! Mayday!" Tucker said to Danny under his breath. Danny ignored him, focusing his eyes on his father, trying to provide his support.

_Just look my way_, he willed. _Everything's going to be alright ... just keep calm and focus_. It was a trick that always worked for him; whenever he had to give a presentation he was nervous for, Danny tried to seek out Sam and Tucker and feed off their energy.

But Jack didn't look his way. Instead he closed his eyes and sighed, before setting his papers down on the podium's surface. He glanced down before him, where the an ornate black casket with gold trimming lay closed. Danny watched him study the bouquet of flowers perfectly positioned atop of it.

"Vlad Masters," Jack began in a resigned voice, "was my friend. I loved him like a brother. They say that no two friends can get along all the time – well, they're wrong. Oh, I won't pretend that I agreed with everything that he did; after all, what's the fun in that?" He paused, his eyes running over the somber faces presented in front of him. "But he was my friend, and no matter what I thought about some of the things he did, I stood by and supported him all the same.

"Until recently." Danny glanced over at his mother, who was resolutely watching her husband. It wasn't hard to figure out what incident Jack was referring to. "I won't pretend that I agreed with everything he did," Jack reiterated. "Some of the things he did confused me; some things confused me; some things outright bamboozled me!" There was a light ripple of practiced laughter from the crowd. "But there was nothing that made me question his loyalty as my friend.

"Until recently." He paused again, holding on to either side of the podium. "I won't pretend that I understood everything that went through Vlad's mind; I don't think anyone here could say that. As much of a friend he was to me, there were times when Vlad seemed like more of a stranger. The way he lived; the way he kept to himself; it was hard to love him, and it was hard to be his friend sometimes.

"But I guess that's what friendship is," Jack straightened up. "There are some things about Vlad that I'll never know; things that I'll never get to know now. He did things I didn't agree with, things I didn't understand – but I know that he was always there for me. And that's what friendship is. Looking past the things you don't understand and still loving that person for who they are. So, Vlad," he addressed the casket now, "for the things I didn't agree with, for the things I don't understand – I forgive you. Because you will always be my friend. Rest in peace ... Vladdy."

"_Amen,"_ the congregation murmured.

Feet scraped the floor as those in the church stood up. Danny heard the cracking of spines as the crowd adjusted their bodies and let out sighs of relief before breaking into a low hum as they began to speak to one another. Their attention was briefly stolen away again as Father Julian returned to the podium, but he only gave them a toothy grin and declared, "To the resting place!"

Danny watched as four able-bodied men scooped up the intricate casket, marvelling at the ease they displayed. The Foleys' began to file out, and Danny and his parents followed suit. Danny watched from the corner of his eye as Maddie took Jack's hand in hers. "It was a lovely speech, Jack," she told him.

"Yeah, dad," Danny added as sunlight washed over their faces. "Vlad would have been proud."

Jack blushed and rubbed at the nape of his neck in embarrassment. "Ah, I'm not so good at speeches."

Maddie smiled up at him. "The best ones come from the heart."

They merged with the crowd once more at the adjoining cemetery. Danny noted with some satisfaction that Freakshow was nowhere to be seen. "Don't tell me they built that within a week too," he said to Sam, nodding at the mausoleum the crowd was assembled round.

"Vlad must have given them prior notice that he wanted a mausoleum for himself," Sam said uncertainly. "It looks really new though. Who knows?"

The crypt was inarguably beautiful. It was slate grey and towered above the people before it, though not as much as the statue in the town center. It looked like a humble house more than anything else, supported by two pillars on either end. Carved into the stone was a depiction of the Grim Reaper, its empty eyes staring out at nothing. Its skeletal arms criss-crossed each other to rest upon opposing shoulders; the right arm was bereft, but the left held on to its classic scythe. Suspended on the roof of the mausoleum was the Virgin Mary; unlike Vlad's statue in the middle of Amity Park, the particulars of this statue was not as elaborate; she did not have irises etched into her eyes the way Vlad's statue did, and so stared blindly down upon them, a benevolent smile upon her face, and her palms facing out, as though welcoming them to embrace her. On either side of her and the Grim Reaper were two small winged, baby-faced cherubs; their bodies were only halfway complete, sinking back into the stone roof where their arms ended; each of the cherubs rested their bountiful cheeks upon one arm, somehow able to gaze lovingly both up at Madonna and down at their audience at the same time.

"Look, Jack!" Maddie tore Danny's attention away from the chamber, pointing up at a tree. "have you ever seen birds with that kind of plumage?"

Danny turned to look at what she was pointing at. There, perched upon a sturdy branch, sat three vultures that boasted feathers of the purest green. Danny's eyes widened in recognition, while the birds simply sat over them and watched the proceedings curiously.

Danny stood aside as the priest hobbled over to his parents. "Ah, Jack!" Father Julian cried as he neared them. "It was a wonderful speech. Couldn't have done better myself." He inspected Jack and Maddie closely. "You'll be the ones then, eh?" he questioned, producing a small porcelain urn with red patterns painted upon it.

"Oh, yes," Maddie nodded, accepting the vase and nodding her thanks.

"Lovely, lovely," Father Julian said. "We'll be starting in a minute – but if you'll excuse me, I believe I see Ida Stubbs not too far away, and I haven't yet had the pleasure..." he straightened his posture slightly, dusting off his robe before bidding them goodbye and making his way over to join the mayor.

"What's that?" Danny questioned once he was gone.

"Vlad's ashes," Maddie informed him.

Danny turned to the crypt in alarm, then back to Maddie. "Vlad's ashes?" he echoed. "But then ... what's in the casket?"

"Nothing," Jack said. "It's empty."

"_It's empty?"_ Danny, Tucker and Sam exclaimed together.

"Of course," Jack said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They only ever recovered Vlad's head, and you don't expect us to put just that in the casket, do you? Vladdy was cremated days ago. This funeral is only ceremonial."

"Like I told you," Sam said faintly, "it's amazing what a billion-dollar fortune will get you."

* * *

After the casket had been placed within the bowels of the mausoleum, the Fentons' walked slowly together through the cemetery and back to their car. Danny trailed slightly behind his parents, who looked more like they were enjoying a romantic stroll through the park. Maddie had wrapped both her arms around Jack's right one and was leaning against him as they walked.

"It was a lovely service, Jack," she sighed. "The perfect way to say goodbye."

"Yeah," Jack replied, a beatific look upon his face. "I'm sure Vlad's looking down upon us and smiling right now." And if that smile was more of a smirk, well then, that was just Vlad Masters.

They were interrupted from their journey when a man Danny recognized as one of Vlad's lawyers came up to them and spoke in quiet tones to his parents. He watched as they nodded along, then Maddie turned towards him and pushed the urn into Danny's arms.

"Here, sweetie," she said. "We have some business to attend to; why don't you get a ride with Sam or Tucker, and we'll see you later at the house?"

"Are you sure?" Danny questioned, glancing over to the lawyer standing a respectful distance away.

"We're positive. Mister Zechariah here just wants to go over a few things with us; we won't be long," Maddie told him. Danny nodded, and left to go find Sam and Tucker.

After some quick talking, the three of them left, with the Foleys' under the impression that the trio would get a ride back from the Mansons', and the Mansons' believing their daughter would be hitching a ride with the Foleys'. Danny hooked his arms around Sam and Tucker's and transformed before taking off into the air.

"What are we doing?" Tucker yelled into Danny's ear, trying to be heard over the rush of the wind.

"You'll see," Danny responded. "There's something I need to do."

They didn't speak again until they reached their destination. Danny landed at the foot of Castle's Point on the other side of town, and set Tucker and Sam gently down with him.

"I was thinking," he said by way of explanation. "Since this whole procession was 'only ceremonial', we never really got to say goodbye to Vlad, did we?"

"What are you going to do?" Sam questioned.

Danny patted the urn in response. Sam and Tucker nodded in understanding.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Tucker offered. Danny shook his head.

"No. I think I want to do this alone, if you don't mind," he said. When they assured him they didn't, he raised himself upward, floating to the very tip of the hill and planting his feet firmly on the edge. The sun was only just beginning to set, burning the whole sky a combination of pink and gold. Danny broke away from the sight to roll the small urn between his hands, trying to think of what to say.

"You're a dickwad."

He raised the urn up to eye-level. "I know what you were trying to pull with that last trick. You really should have learned a little something about subtlety when you had the chance."

A sound that may have either been a laugh or a sob escaped him, and he lowered the urn a little.

"But if my dad can learn to forgive you ... then I guess I can too."

He unscrewed the lid away from the body of the vase.

"Rest in peace, Vlad. Even you deserve at least that."

And then he thrust his arms outwards, and watched as a shower of ashes cascaded into the sky, freezing still for a moment before being carried off by the wind to places unknown.

He stood there then, alone, isolated, the only one. Closing his eyes, he allowed his heart to unclench itself. This was the end. The one person, the only other person in the world that could ever truly understand Danny was gone. And it was time to let go.

When he opened his eyes, he realized for the first time that he hadn't gone numb as he was so prone to doing. He felt opened, raw. It was a strange new feeling, dangerous, and yet not unbearable. The wind blew cold against him, causing his hair to flutter. The sun was giving way to night now, sinking almost completely in the horizon. Danny decided to stay and watch it go.

There was a loud screech to the left of him, and he turned his head, and watched with some surprise as three vultures of the purest green soared together through the sky, perfectly aligned, in the direction of the dying sun.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** I hope this chapter doesn't look weird. I'm using my Japanese friend's computer to upload this chapter so I hope it doesn't screw up the formatting. It looks fine on the Document Manager so I hope that's a good sign.

I hope I managed to do justice to Vlad with this chapter. It turned out a little longer than I wanted it to, but oh well. I really wanted this chapter to be shorter than the last, because I'm pretty sure the next chapter is going to be long too. Consider this chapter as a sort of interlude between the past few chapters and the ones to come.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to say welcome to all the people who have recently discovered this fic. It makes me feel so good to see so many new people reviewing this fic and adding it to their Story Alerts and Favorites. I felt bad about skipping out an entire year on this fic, but now I know that if I hadn't done that, I probably wouldn't have gained all of you like I did now, so it makes me feel really good to welcome you all as this story reaches its ultimate conclusion. Hope to hear your thoughts on this chapter. I quite like the way it turned out and I hope all of you reading this did too.


	40. And The Ass Saw The Angel

What was the connection between Jason Belgrave and Freakshow? Saturday night found Danny Fenton in deep thought with a dissatisfied frown on his face. He stroked his chin absentmindedly as he tried to picture the scenario. There was no doubt in his mind that Freakshow had killed the other man before journeying to Amity Park, but there was still something missing from the puzzle.

"You're sure this Belgrave person worked for the Guys in White?" Sam pressed after Danny had told Tucker and her about his theories.

"Positive," Danny confirmed. "M definitely said that they lost contact with 'Agent Belgrave' back at the base unit. Why?"

Danny remembered the troubled look on Sam's face as she tried to phrase her sentence properly. "What I don't understand," she said then, "is why the Guys in White call him Agent Belgrave instead of Agent B if he's one of them."

Danny hadn't thought about it. It _was_ strange. With the exception of Agent Pelham, all members of the Guys in White referred to each other by initial only. It was a question that nagged him and pulled at his nerves, resulting in yet another sleepless night. Danny tossed and turned, not getting any sort of rest until the sun rose up, at which point he drifted off and emerged from underneath the blankets after noon. Now here he was, seated in front of his computer, a resolute frown set upon his forehead, trying to look up the Guys in White to no avail.

He huffed and tossed himself backwards into his seat. This was hopeless. The Internet had failed to provide him with any sort of answer to the mystery, coughing up only vague details of Belgrave's murder, and redirecting him to the home page of the FBI whenever tried to get close to looking up the Guys in White.

Danny stared at the website he was on without really looking at it. His eyes lazily scanned the faces that graced the FBI's Most Wanted list, but there was no one familiar who caught his eye; no grey face caked in makeup and sporting a twisted grin.

Returning to the search engine more as a means to doing something rather than holding on to any hope of actually finding any useful information, Danny quickly typed in the words _Frederic Isak Showenhower_ into the box and waited to see what would come up.

_Your search has returned no results_.

Danny let out a growl and thumped the underside of his fist on to the table.

Great. Just like the Guys in White to eradicate any trace of one of their prisoners. Now Danny had absolutely nothing to go on.

There was a knock on the door, and Danny pulled its head away from where it was resting upon clasped fingers. "Yeah?" he grunted in response. The door swung open and Maddie stuck her head inside.

"There you are!" she said. "What are you doing holed up in your room?"

Danny shrugged lethargically, sinking back into the chair and spinning around. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Well," Maddie stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her, "I was under the impression that your school was holding the Prom tonight."

"Oh, yeah," Danny rolled his eyes. "That. I'm not going."

"Why not?" Maddie asked with some surprise. "Don't you want to go and hang out with all your friends?"

Danny snorted. If there was one thing that had been drilled into his head the past few weeks, it was that the Prom was most certainly _not_ a night meant for hanging out with friends. "I was thinking about just catching up on some studying," he told her instead. "Finals are week after next, you know."

"I know," Maddie acknowledged. She moved to sit down on the edge of Danny's bed. Something rustled, but Danny kept his eyes fixed on the computer monitor. "I also know that no one in your school is thinking about studying tonight."

"Mom—"

"Oh, Danny, you've had a hard week," Maddie said sympathetically. "I know you need a break ... but staying up in your room by yourself while everyone else is out having fun isn't the answer."

"Mom, I don't have a date!" Danny exploded suddenly, tearing his eyes away from the words on the screen to glare at her. Instantly he felt bad about snapping, but quickly buried the guilt away underneath his indignation. This was his problem, and she had no right to keep pushing him that way.

"You didn't ask anyone?" Maddie questioned.

Who would he have asked? Valerie? He had entertained the idea, but no, she had her own Prom to go to, he was sure. Her own life to live. Danny returned his attention to the monitor and began quickly tapping his keyboard in a show of being completely immersed in what he was doing. "No," he said shortly. "I didn't ask anyone; so I can't go. The Prom is for people with dates."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother's face soften. "Oh, Danny, that's not true," she admonished gently. "The Prom is for everyone to enjoy. That's why the school goes through so much trouble to prepare for it. It's your right as a student to attend it."

"And it's my right to choose not to, isn't it?" Danny asked.

"Yes, it is," Maddie allowed. "I just think it would be better for you to surround yourself with the people who care about you." She got to her feet. Something rustled again as she patted down Danny's sheets to get rid of the crease she had created. "Look, even if you decide not to go, at least come downstairs for a little while. Your father and I are watching a movie, and it'd be really nice if you could join us."

She moved towards the door, turning around to say one final thing. "If you do decide to go, I've left you a little something you might like to wear. Goodnight, Danny."

Danny fixed his eyes on the window petulantly until he heard the door click shut, then rotated his chair around to see what his mother had left him. When his eyes fell on the garment, his eyes widened and he froze in place.

Draped across the mattress of Danny's bed and encased within a plastic sheath was a beautiful blue suit, stylishly tailored to a modern cut. It was the suit Danny had found himself admiring when wandering around Vlad's mansion, when his search for clues had led him to the man's bedroom and the walk-in closet attached. Danny reached out and clumsily unzipped the protective plastic layer before running his fingers along the material. It felt just as rich as he remembered it.

Shucking his shirt and jeans, which looked all the more ratty in comparison to the fine suit in his arms, Danny slipped on the crisp white shirt and fumbled with the trousers, and, upon completing that task, slowly donned the blue jacket.

He stood in front of his mirror admiring himself. The white shirt was done up to the top, and the blazer slanted inwards press itself against his ribs and stomach. Considering his reflection for a moment, Danny reached out and grabbed Poindexter's black cummerbund, fastening it around his neck dexterously to top off the look. Danny twisted his body in attempt to see how it looked on him from the side, and was forced to admit that his mother may have had a point about his weight, if he was able to comfortably wear something that once belonged to Vlad.

Speaking of which, Danny said to himself as he clipped on the corresponding cufflinks that had come with the suit, he had to ask her how she got her hands on this prize. Sparing one last glance at the mirror, he threw open the door and thudded downstairs, allowing his thunderous footsteps to alert his parents to his arrival.

"Mom!"

Jack and Maddie were seated on the couch in front of the television, which they had on mute.

"Oh, Danny," Maddie gushed when she saw her son. "It looks wonderful on you."

"Where did you get this?" Danny asked even though he already knew the answer.

"We found it when we went to Vlad's place yesterday," Maddie confirmed. "The lawyer wanted us to pick which items we wanted to take with us, and I thought of you when I saw this suit."

"Er..." Danny tried his best to phrase his next sentence as delicately as possible. "And did you happen to go all around ... like the garden?"

"The garden, dear?" Maddie repeated absently. "No, we only remained in the house." That was a relief. At least it meant that his parents hadn't come across the Fright Knight, whom Danny had no doubt was still standing guard over Vlad's mutilated remains that were buried out by the rose bushes.

Danny found himself playing with the tails of the suit distractedly. It was perhaps the only part of the suit that retained a classical feel. "Why did Vlad's lawyer want you to take stuff out of his house?" he asked.

"Oh, just courtesy, I expect," Maddie turned her attention back to the television. "Giving us the first choice of what we would like before the estate is converted."

"Converted?" Danny's eyes raised in eyebrows.

Jack nodded. "Most of the things in Vlad's mansion are going to be auctioned away; others will be donated to the local museum; they want to make sure there's nothing valuable that isn't bolted down so that visitors won't be able to steal them. You know—" he added upon catching sight of Danny's confused face, "—when Vlad's mansion is turned into a national monument."

"What?" Danny's eyebrows shot up in response to this. "A national monument? You mean like what they did to Mark Twain's house?"

"Vlad would have liked nothing better," Jack said confidently, turning his attention back to the photo album he had spread out on his lap. Offhandedly, he said to Danny, "I hear you've got your Prom tonight."

"Yeah," Danny brushed off the question. "I'm not going."

"Why not?" Jack asked, looking as surprised as Maddie had been when Danny told her the same. "That's why we got you the suit."

Danny shrugged, flopping down on the adjacent armchair and flipping channels with the remote. "It sounds lame," he said evasively. "I guess I'm just not into the whole Prom thing. I was thinking I would just hang out with you guys instead."

Jack shared a doubtful look with Maddie. "Well," Jack cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "Danny – that is – er..." At Maddie's urging nod, he went on to say, "You know, dates aren't the most important thing in the world. There's lots of things to do at Prom. There's food, there's music; last I checked, that's all you really need to have a good time."

"Dad," Danny cut him off with a knowing look, "did _you_ have a date to _your_ Prom?"

"Of course I did," Jack sounded affronted by the insinuation.

Danny went back to flipping channels.

"So what's this movie you guys are going to watch?" he suddenly remembered his mother's earlier invitation to watch a film with them. Maddie pulled out an untitled disc and slipped it into the player. Danny watched as the screen went from its blank state to a close up of three people grinning woodenly at the camera. He recognized them immediately as younger versions of his parents and Vlad.

"That was back when I bought my first video camera," Jack reported, one arm hanging over Maddie's shoulders. "We filmed everything together."

The quality was amateurish at best, and the shot itself was grainy and faded from time. Nevertheless, Danny found himself captivated by the easy camaraderie of the three friends from so long ago. It was almost like watching himself with Sam and Tucker, the same fond smile he gave them plastered on Jack's face for him to see.

Sneaking a glance at his parents curled up together, Danny could tell that they wanted to be left alone with their memories, so he quietly got up from the couch and shuffled back upstairs, feeling a strange sense of disquiet as he closed the door to his bedroom quietly behind him. Perhaps he would use this time to catch up on his studies; perhaps he would look up some possible colleges to apply to; perhaps he would have an early night's sleep.

He was still thinking up various productive ways to spend his time when he noticed his phone flashing on the table, trying to gain his attention with the promise of an unread message. Danny found when he unlocked his cellphone from its dormant state that he had also missed three phone calls from Sam. Odd, Danny frowned. He had only been downstairs for a little over half an hour; why on earth would she have called him so many times in such a short space of time?

He scrolled through a series of text messages she had sent him.

_Where are you? Call me back._

_Pick up your phone!_

_Dude, when are you gonna get here? Sam's freaking out — Tucker_

_Pick up your phone!_

An ominous feeling began brewing inside of Danny as he read each message, growing deeper as he flashed through each subsequent message until finally reaching the last one.

_Get here now._

Danny was already transforming before he had even put the phone away. His heart was thudding frantically against his chest. Leaping through the window and passing through it unharmed, Danny shot through the night sky in the direction of the high school.

As he traversed through the air, he tried not to imagine what could have happened to prompt Sam and Tucker to call him so frequently. Had Freakshow perhaps attacked the school? Or some ghosts looking to get Danny's attention? Why had Sam and Tucker not come looking for him if they couldn't reach his cellphone – maybe the entire school was being held hostage in the gym.

He gritted his teeth and plunged forward, trying to ignore the tension gnawing at his stomach as he tore through the air.

Casper High loomed up ahead, and Danny guided himself to come in for a landing, landing smoothly on the foyer just outside the school's front doors. To his surprise, Sam was sitting upon the wide steps, hunched over her cellphone. Her tongue stuck out comically as she concentrated on the text message she was constructing. She looked up upon hearing footsteps approaching and whipped her head around to find Danny standing there.

"Danny!" she jumped to her feet, causing the front of her flowing purple skirt to whirl about her. "Finally! Where have you been?"

"I – I got your messages," Danny panted. "What's going on? Why are you outside?"

"I was waiting for you!" Sam cried. "I wasn't sure if you were going to show up. Come on, we gotta get in there."

She took off running, leaving Danny to pursue her. He transformed back into his human self as he jogged up to her. "So what's the scene?" he questioned. "Is it a ghost? Freakshow? The Guys in White?"

"No, nothing like that," Sam shook her head. "You'll see when you get in there." She skidded to a stop right outside the doors to the gymnasium, very nearly causing Danny to topple into her. Painfully, she gripped his shoulders, leaning him forward so that she could look him over. "You look fine," she said, tugging at his hair in hopes of flattening it a bit. "Now get in there!"

"Aren't you coming?" Danny yelped as she started to push him forward.

"I'm right behind you – go!" Sam insisted, shoving him through the swinging doors. Danny stumbled and narrowly prevented himself from falling flat on his face as he passed through the doors. He straightened himself up and prepared to chew Sam out for her rude behavior, but the words died on his mouth when he caught sight of the gymnasium.

It was unbelievable. Music was pounding from a large pair of speakers placed on either side of a small erected stage, where a few juniors Danny recognized were playing. Seniors were milling about chatting animatedly to one another and admiring the decor. Strobe lights were attached to the high ceilings and littered the hardwood floors, highlighting the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. Helium-blown balloons were found all over the place, sharing space with streamers. A large square table from the cafeteria that housed all the food and drinks available was leaning up against the back wall. It all seemed like pretty normal fare for a high school Prom event, except for one thing: taped up on nearly every available wall space were pictures of various ghosts well-known throughout Amity Park. They were not actual images, but rather artistic renderings created through the use of sophisticated computer programs and blown up to a scale larger than life, giving them almost a cartoonish feel. Danny's eyes went from an image of Skulker on one wall to one of the Fright Knight to yet another one of the Lunch Lady.

But the most conspicuous poster was the one that hung on the wall behind the stage itself. Unlike the others, the image on this one was clearly captured by a camera, appearing far more realistic the others. Another thing that distinguished this poster from the rest was that it only depicted a face rather than a full bodied person. The face was framed by a shock of white hair and lit by emerald green eyes and rounded off with a contented smile. Danny was staring at the face of Danny Phantom.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" he heard a voice say right by his ear. Danny turned to find Sam standing next to him with a pleased grin on her face as she took in the sights around them. "I knew you wouldn't have wanted to miss this."

"I don't..." Danny croaked. "How did they get such a good picture of Danny Phantom?"

Sam shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't know, but it looks great, doesn't it? You should try asking them if you can keep it after the night is over." She grabbed him by the arm and led him through a crowd of nearby students. "Come on, let's go find Tuck."

They barely took two steps before a photographer stopped them in their tracks and held up a large camera. "Smile." The flash went off, making Danny dizzy. Sam pulled away from the pose she had quickly gathered herself and Danny into, and they continued on their way.

"Tuck!" Sam hollered over the music, catching sight of their friend. "Tucker!"

Tucker turned around, face breaking into a wide grin when he caught sight of them. "Hey!" he greeted enthusiastically when they reached him. In contrast to the typical black tuxedos most of the other guys were wearing, Tucker had opted for a bottle-green suit, topped with his signature red beanie. He whistled appreciatively when his eyes fell on Danny. "Dude, you are _smokin'_!"

"Everyone looks so good tonight," Danny still couldn't keep his eyes from wandering. Students who would normally never be caught dead speaking to each other were found joking and laughing around the food stand as they sipped punch; a couple of cheerleaders were showing Alyssa Brennan, the geeky head of the Peer Support Group, various things they had to decorate the gym; couples weretp be seen everywhere, hanging on to each other and having spirited conversations within big groups of people; Ms. Tetslaff was wearing a _dress_, along with combat boots, and a string of pearls around her neck.

Sam herself was looking exquisite in a magenta gown. There was a slight train that dragged along behind her. "Where's Winston?" Danny asked, remembering suddenly that Sam had told him last week that she would be arriving with him.

"Somewhere over there," she waved at the general direction of the stage. "I had to go outside and wait for you, so he's just hanging out until I get back."

Danny turned to Tucker, raising his eyebrow. "And who did you bring?" he questioned.

Before Tucker got a chance to reply, the band stopped playing, allowing for applause to fill the room after a belated moment. They bowed in thanks and waved goodnight to seniors, quickly packing up their equipment and hustling out. A row of spotlights fell on the stage, and another round of applause went up as Mikey loped up to the microphone.

"Greetings, seniors!" he cheered. A hearty roar of acknowledgement rose from the crowd. Danny clapped along, a wide grin on his face.

"I'm Mikey Fordham, your class representative for the student council and on behalf of the student board, I'd like to welcome you to Casper High's Prom Night '08!" he thrust his fist up into the air, and another wave of cheers resounded. Danny never knew Mikey to have so much charm, and grew another level of respect for him.

"Oh, we have got a great night lined up for you here, folks," Mikey pushed the spectacles that were sliding off his nose back to its proper position. "And if you think we're gonna stop at the stroke of twelve, well then you must have been living under a rock because we all know the fun's just begun with our bitchin' _afterparty_!"

Tucker wrapped his lips around two fingers and whistled loudly along with a number of other students.

"And now that we're all warmed up, let's get ready to rock – kickin' off with our very fine, very lovely, very luscious ladies-in-waiting: let's give it up for ... the _nominees_!"

Three separate spotlights landed to the right of the stage, where Danny could see Paulina, Star and Eleanor standing expectantly waiting to be called. All three of them looked breathtaking. Paulina was dressed in an elegant cream-colored dress that extended just above her bosom all the way down to her feet. She was wearing corresponding gloves that ran past her elbows and up her forearms. Her hair was sleek, and shinier than usual, with the curls straightened out of it. The dress, Danny could see, was backless, and inching up along her spine was a glittering red rose, with a green stem that led downwards into the folds of her dress where it aligned just above her waist. Star stood next to her, dressed in a tight, sparkling gold dress that came up several inches above her knees. Her vivacious blond hair had been fluffed so that it bloomed large behind her. At the end was Elanor, dressed in a full-on gown that was a deep, rich red. Her hair had been teased so that they fell about her face in curls. Her fingers were adorned with rings Danny was certain she had borrowed from her mother. She swayed nervously on her feet, and her gown swished as she moved.

"I'm going to go find Winston," Sam announced to him and Tucker, who was still clapping wildly. "He'll definitely want to see this."

"And not to forget the suitor for the night – only one can win it, folks: the Prom King!" The spotlights that had been fixated on the three girls shifted so that they landed on Dash, Kwan and another guy from the football team. Danny's heart leapt to his throat. While the other two had opted for the more traditional black, Dash had chosen a clean white tuxedo to wear to the party. It was a good decision. Danny's eyes roved over his face, drinking in the jock's strong jaw and slick blond hair. Dash had a typical stoic expression on his face, and didn't look very excited to be there at all. Danny's eyes slid over to Kwan's face, recalling the way it had screwed up tightly in attempt to contain the tears Kwan had tried not to shed that day in the boys' bathroom.

"But before all that, there's still one little matter to be settled, ladies and gentlemen," Mikey's voice lowered to a deeper pitch. "Could I get Danny Fenton to get up on stage here with me, please?"

There was a ripple in the air as the attention of the students were stolen away from the stage as they attempted to locate Danny. Danny turned in alarm to Tucker, who simply shrugged with a quizzical look on his face. Someone raised his limp arm into the air. "He's here!" the person hollered.

Danny snatched his arm away, but it was too late; hands reached out for him and guided him through the sea of bodies until he found himself at the foot of the stage. Mikey grasped his hand and hoisted him up.

"Danny Fenton, everybody!" he called up to the crowd, inspiring another loud cheer for them. Danny gave an awkward grin and waved his hand in response. Why was he here?

Mikey took a step back and extended his arm out so that it landed solidly on Danny's shoulder. "Isn't he such a good sport, everybody? Give it up for him one more time!" Danny blushed as catcalls filled the air once more.

"Danny, Danny," Mikey was saying now, "you've been such a good sport about this; did you know, folks, that we couldn't have pulled this night together without this man standing next to me right here?"

Mikey threw his arm off Danny's shoulder to gesture at the gigantic poster on Danny Phantom directly behind them. "You've seen him round, people; you know his name; but I bet none of you have ever managed to get such a good picture of the elusive Danny Phantom before; but I got a secret for ya – the man up on that picture over there _isn't_ Danny Phantom. No, sir – that picture is of our very own Danny Fenton, ladies and gentlemen, and he's the reason why we were able to pull off tonight's theme. This year's theme for Casper High's Prom Night, ladies and gentlemen: _Spirit of Amity Park_!"

Danny dimly registered the applause that followed Mikey's declaration. His eyes roamed once again over to the large posters that hung all over the room, the familiar faces of his adversaries, and that of his very own alter-ego staring back at him. He realized now why the posters of Danny Phantom looked so realistic. His mind flashed back to Wednesday, to his impromptu photo session with Jennifer and Barry. He took in the small smile on Danny Phantom's face – his smile. This must have been what he'd looked like when he'd been envisioning Valerie that afternoon.

Mikey was facing him now, saying something into the microphone.

"...couldn't have done it without your help, Danny. When the Prom Committee thought up the theme for this year, we all knew the only way of getting a good shot of Danny Phantom's face was by taking yours; and ain't it such a good likeness, folks?" he turned back to the crowd, eliciting more claps. "All we needed to change were the hair and the eyes, it's such a good likeness! They could practically be twins!"

He turned back to Danny now, lowering his voice to a more intimate level now that he was addressing Danny. "And since we owe so much to your help tonight, we thought you deserved a special honor." Danny's eyes widened when he caught sight of a stagehand passing over a plastic gold crown over to Mikey. Mikey took it in his hands and turned back to Danny.

"So we decided to give you this," he concluded, holding the crown up high so that everyone could see. Danny felt his heart race as Mikey closed the distance between them.

"So congratulations, Danny Fenton," he said into the microphone. "You are Casper High's first ever..."

He fixed Danny with an intense look.

"Prom..."

The crown was lowered on to his head.

"...Prince."

Emotion welled up inside of Danny as he stared out at the faces of his peers. Mikey gently steered him over to the microphone and rearranged it on its stand so that it was positioned directly in front of Danny's mouth. Danny's eyes surveyed the crowd and he caught sight of a delighted Tucker holding up his phone, no doubt recording every minute. His eyes caught Dash, and he was heartened to see that the other boy did not avert his gaze this time. Everybody was waiting expectantly for his speech.

"I don't know what to say," Danny blurted out. "This is just so unexpected."

There was another pause as he tried to compose himself.

"Truth be told, I wasn't even going to come to this thing tonight. I made up all kinds of excuses, but I guess in the end, none of them mattered because my friends found a way to get me here anyway." He tried surreptitiously to search Sam out, but was unable to find her.

"And I'm glad I came, because this..." he lifted up the plastic crown and brought it close to inspect it, "...this is the highlight of my year."

There was scattered applause as he stepped back and allowed Mikey to take his place. "Alright people, it's time for the moment you've all been waiting for – Casper High, your Prom King of 2008 is..." he held out his hand for the envelope, which Mr. Lancer pressed into his palm; Mikey tore it open with little grace. "Kwan!"

There was loud cheer, and Danny watched with a detached grin on his face as the jocks crowded around their comrade, enveloping him in manly hugs and playful shoves. Kwan eventually broke out of the cluster of bodies and made his way onstage, bowing his head slightly, allowing Mikey to put the crown on his head. Mikey then directed him over to where Danny was standing slightly off to the side. Danny chanced a look at the bigger boy, but quickly looked away again when he found Kwan watching him with a curious look on his face. Pretending nothing had happened, Danny stared resolutely at the seniors gathered around them, finally finding Sam leaning up close against her date.

"And now, if I could have the envelope please..." Mikey requested into the microphone, trying to build up the tension. Lancer passed it over to him; this time, the boy took the time to open the envelope carefully, no doubt trying to prolong the suspense. His eyes scanned through the name printed on the card, then went over it again and again.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he cleared his throat, before pausing once more. Even Danny found himself leaning forward in anticipation. "Ladies and gentlemen, your Prom Queen for Casper High's class of 2008 is..."

For one second, the entire room waited with bated breath.

"Star!"

Danny couldn't be sure, but he thought there was a moment in which everyone reeled back in shock over what he'd just said. Then, with much chattering, there was large round of applause as Star gleefully bounded up the stage. Danny's eyes flicked over to the other two girls left in her wake; Eleanor looked disappointed, staring down at the floor and blinking hard, as though trying to prevent tears from falling; Paulina's face was carefully blank.

There was much fare to be made for the Prom Queen. Star could barely contain herself as Mikey slipped a sash with the words 'CASPER HIGH SCHOOL' emblazoned on it before passing along a bouquet of flowers, and finally a shimmering tiara that nearly blinded them all as it refracted the beam of the spotlight.

Danny tuned out as Star launched into her speech, his sight landing upon Sam who appeared oddly furious by the result. Danny quirked an eyebrow. He knew Sam and Paulina had recently started to spend more time together, but it was a bit much, in his opinion, to look so indignant on Paulina's behalf.

Before he realized it, Mikey and Mr. Lancer were carefully edging Star away from the microphone, effectively cutting her off before she began to ramble. Star hardly seemed to notice; she was too busy blowing kisses to her adoring public.

"Once again, everybody," Mikey enthused. "Your Prom King, Queen and Prince!"

There was another loud cheer from the crowd as the three of them stepped forward holding hands to take a final bow. Danny's smile grew a little more strained as flashes from cameras all around went off. Star's iron grip on him fell away as Mikey gestured to the three of them and announced, "Now we'll have tonight's royalty lead us with their celebratory dance." He nudged Danny's ribs with his elbow and muttered, "Where's your date, Fenton?"

"Uh..." Danny flushed. Trust him to turn one of the most glorious nights of his life into an embarrassment.

"Right here!" he heard someone call. Sam pulled away from Winston's arm, waving her hand to catch Mikey's attention as she made her way to the stage. The crowd cleared a path for her as she weaved through the bodies. Danny slumped in relief as he was escorted off the stage so that the deejay could set up his equipment.

"What about Winston? Won't he mind?" he questioned as they swayed together to the music.

Sam furrowed her eyebrows. "Mind? Why would he mind?"

"I thought you two were ... together?" Danny waved his arm around as he tried to phrase the sentence right.

"It's not serious," Sam admitted to him. "I don't start Princeton until fall, and he's got his own life going on. Truth be told, I am not ready to invest in a full-time relationship right now. We're just taking it slow. I don't think either of us are ready for anything official just yet."

The crowd watched as Kwan, Star, Danny and Sam continued to dance while clasping on to their respective partners. Danny spotted Tucker filming him and Sam and narrowed his eyes in warning. Then, to his surprise, Tucker's attention was stolen away by none other than Eleanor, the third nominee, who got him to put away the phone and join her on the dance floor. Soon after, Dash and Paulina joined in the mix too.

"Tucker's date is one of the Prom Queens?" Danny couldn't hide his surprise.

Sam glanced over to the slowly rotating couple and smirked. "Funny, isn't it? He asked her out on Monday after Paulina railed her out for wearing that necklace."

Danny noted that Eleanor had gotten rid of the necklace in question. His gaze rested on Dash and Paulina moving elegantly in a circle several feet away. Paulina's arms were wrapped around Dash's neck and shoulders, while his considerably bigger hands almost completely encircled the entirety of her waist; he had pulled her figure flush up against his body; his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be lost in some reverie. Over to their left were Star and Kwan; the Asian boy was holding on to his date in the proper manner, and it was clear that the two of them were nowhere near as comfortable with one another as Dash and Paulina were with each other; as Dash and Paulina carefully guided themselves, remaining in the circular motion they had established, Star and Kwan were practically twirling all around the room; her wide blue eyes darted everywhere, as though she were trying to commit every single detail to memory; Kwan, on the other hand, appeared to be just as lost in his thoughts as Dash; even though his eyes were open, they were staring at nothing in particular.

When the music tapered off, the couples broke apart to a cascading round of applause. The deejay had managed to get everything he needed in working order, and the speakers thrummed to life as bass-heavy beats resonated around them. Star was immediately surrounded by a group of gabbing girls congratulating her on her win.

"I bet she stuffed the ballot box when no one was looking," Sam fumed as the giggling bunch passed them by.

"I'm sure she won fair and square." Danny said, already losing interest in the conversation in favor of trying to find Dash amongst all the nameless faceless masses.

"Whatever," Sam grumbled discontentedly "Come on, let's go out; I need some air."

They sauntered by Tucker, who gave them a distracted wave goodbye without bothering to look away from Eleanor. "So tell me," Danny said conversationally, "why exactly are you so pissed that Star beat Paulina out for Prom Queen?"

Sam turned wide eyes on him. "I'm not pissed!" she protested.

Danny gave her a sceptical look. "Sam, please. You've been glaring in her direction ever since Mikey called her name." He raised his eyebrows when she opened her mouth to deny it.

"Alright, fine," Sam gave in. "But you of all people have got to admit there's no way Star deserved that title more than Paulina; I mean, she's not my favourite person in the world," she added, "but even I know there's no one who epitomizes the term 'Prom Queen' better than Paulina Sanchez."

They crossed over to the other side of the gymnasium and pushed open the double doors to step outside. Danny sucked in a deep breath of relief; nice as it was in there, it was also proving to be extremely overwhelming, and the fresh air felt good on his skin and in his lungs.

"You left your boyfriend inside," Danny reminded her. "Or non-boyfriend. Whatever."

Sam glanced over her shoulder back at the school. "Yeah. I'll go rescue him in a minute. I just need to take a moment."

She swung her feet off the grass to land gracefully on one of the outdoor tables, not seeming to care if her dress got slightly wet from the leftover dew. Pressing her palms flat against the surface, she leaned back to take in the sight of the moon, almost completely full, and the trees dangling above her. "I'm really glad you came, Danny," she told him. "Not that you had a choice; I was going to give you five more minutes before going over to your house and dragging you out when you showed up."

"Yeah, this party is, uh, pretty incredible," a bashful smile came over Danny's face.

Sam's face turned fond. "You're still wearing your crown," she said softly.

Danny's hand quickly flew to the top of his head and removed the headpiece. He examined it with great care, turning it about in his hands.

"Keep it on," Sam urged. Danny gave her an exasperated glance. "No, seriously. You should. Look around you, Danny – this party tonight is for _you_. For _both_ of you. They made up a brand new category just so that they could honor you. Not even Star can say something like that for herself."

Darting his eyes back at her one more time, Danny ducked his head and quickly fitted the crown back on. Sam's face turned more serious now.

"And there's one more thing, Danny..." she said hesitantly.

Danny raised his eyebrows expectantly. The music from indoors still thrummed in his ears. He shifted his gaze to take in the tree just to the left of Sam's ear, with its dark green leaves billowing gently in the wind.

"I – that is to say, Tuck and I – we don't want you to think that ... we're forgetting you or anything," Sam rubbed at the nape of her neck awkwardly.

Danny blinked.

"I mean," Sam went on, "I know we haven't really talked about it ... it's just been a little bit hectic, what with this being our last semester and all the things there are to take care of. I never really asked what your plans were, I just kind of assumed ... well, I mean – it's hard to think of Amity Park without you here."

Danny nodded. He knew what she meant. "It's hard to think of Amity Park without you here too, Sam," he said quietly.

"I know," Sam assured quickly. There was a small pause before she said again, "That's why I've been thinking ... I mean..." she ran her hand up and down the other forearm; "it's not really a _rule_ that you have to go to college right away. I don't know what Tuck's plans are, but if you're up for it, you know – I don't mind ... hanging around for a while, you know," she finished lamely.

Danny nodded mutely for a moment, then pursed his lips. A small smile appeared on his face. There was a time when he might have jumped at the offer. He hated to think of himself as so selfish, but it was true. Only mere weeks, months ago, he had been so desperately and insanely jealous. It was not that he _envied_ their opportunity, it's just that he longed to have had the choice to make.

But not anymore.

Something had changed in Danny along the way; he wasn't sure if it was Vlad's death that had set off the trigger, or the compounding of all his troubles crashing into each other, but somewhere down the line, he had his values change overnight. No longer did he harbor the need to watch on resentfully as they prepared to go off on their great journeys.

"Thanks, Sam," he said genuinely. "I appreciate the offer. But I'm alright," he pivoted on his feet and gazed at the aging building. Sounds of enjoyment were still creeping out through the doors. "I think I always knew that this was coming. It just took a while to see. This is the way things are supposed to be," he glanced at her over his shoulder, "and I'm okay with that now."

"Something good is going to happen, Danny, you'll see," Sam raised herself from the table and made her way over to him. "Things are going to change. I can feel it."

Change. Yes, he could feel it too. Looming in the distance. Whatever was going on in his life, Danny knew too, like a feeling in the bones; change was coming.

Sam squeezed Danny hands, looking earnestly into his eyes. "Tonight is going to be a magical night."

They returned together into the gymnasium. Danny shifted close to her, fixated upon Sam, a congenial smile playing on his face, and so did not see Kwan in time to avoid smacking his shoulder into him.

Danny pulled away in surprise and stared at the menacing scowl Kwan gave him. He was wearing his crown, tilted to one side and glinting underneath the lighting. Sam paused too, holding lightly on to Danny's hand in a show of solidarity. Kwan's eyes never left Danny, but Danny noticed Dash and Paulina, along with Star and her friends watching closely/

Then Kwan shifted, turned his gaze back around, and marched past. Sam and Danny shared an inquiring look. What was all that about?

Danny's attention shifted back to the other bystanders, who in turn slowly turned their eyes away. Danny thought he saw Dash give him a slightly more lingering look.

"I'm going to go find Winston," Sam told him. "You should come hang out with us. Tuck will want to show off Eleanor too."

"I'll be waiting here," Danny promised. Sam nodded and flitted off, and Danny fought the urge to fold his arms protectively over his chest.

Dash never looked his way again.

Danny stood there, by the food stand, and considered Dash's form. Just a few days ago, he had felt so hurt just by looking at his empty seat, yet now...

Ever since Danny had whispered his little confession in the confines of his room, he had looked at his relationship with Dash in a new way. It was like taking a breath of fresh air. No longer did he carry his yearning for the other boy like a burden; now he had grown to accept it as just another part of him, just another facet in the life of Danny Fenton.

He studied Dash's broad back, picture the trim waist that the white jacket currently hid.

No longer were his feelings an anchor.

And suddenly he knew what to do.

* * *

Danny spent the rest of the night at the gym with Sam and Tucker. Eleanor had been a little bit distant, but Danny could forgive her that, considering how close to the crown she had been; he made sure to keep his out of sight in her presence. Winston, to his pleasant surprise, had been a perfectly nice, if not slightly dull person. Danny was glad for that, at the very least. Sam could totally take this guy on, if he tried anything.

He didn't dance much, except for when they all jumped in as a group, but it would be impossible to deny that he had a good time. He kept getting congratulated by people, some of whom he didn't recall ever speaking to in his life. Howard Mehnke drifted along by and bared his teeth in a way that Danny chose to consider as a smile. Jennifer and Barry came over, the girl squealing at the sight of Danny's crown and giving him a big hug. "Good on you, Fenton," Barry gave him a thumbs-up even as his girlfriend lay a wet smack on Danny's cheek.

"Thanks," Danny said, embarrassed but pleased. "How did you do it?"

"Wasn't hard," Barry shrugged. "We just took your picture and sprayed your hair white. Your eyes were closed, so we just filled the space in and drew in two green orbs."

They continue speaking for a few more minutes, before Jennifer whisked Danny off to dance. Barry joined soon after, as did Tucker and Eleanor, and before too long, Winston and Sam were wading their way over as well.

As it got close to midnight, the stage was taken over by Mr. Lancer, decked out in his most garish outfit. "Okay, people, last call," he announced. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!" Then he gestured to the deejay to play the final song for the night, and stepped away.

"Sam!" Danny's attention was taken by a loud voice calling his friend's name. He turned to see Paulina making her way over to them.

"Paulina!" Sam cried.

"You're coming to the afterparty, right?" Paulina demanded.

"Yeah, of course!" Sam declared. Paulina nodded and turned to leave. Danny waited for her to acknowledge him, throw him a dirty look maybe, but she never even glanced his way.

"Where is this party, anyway?" Danny inquired.

"Amity Park Welcome," Sam said simply.

The Amity Park Welcome was the closest thing in their part of town to resemble a hotel, probably, Danny reasoned, because the Hyatts simply did not see the appeal of opening up a branch in a small, Midwestern town of 3,500 and dwindling. It was small, it was dinky, but it boasted a large hall and accompanying balcony, which made it the perfect location to rent out for large events. Danny had no doubt the Prom Committee had rented out the entire building for student use.

"Come with us," Sam invited. "We have more than enough space in the limo."

"You guys went through a lot of trouble." Danny marvelled at the effort everyone in school had taken to make sure this night went off without a hitch; from the Prom Committee to the students themselves, who, while he had been off trying to grab on to the shards of his life, had managed to somehow organize themselves into tasteful, fancy outfits, accommodation, and transport.

Still, Danny thought as he slid into the limo, discreetly fingering his crown, he hadn't done too bad himself. He gazed ruefully down the fancy blue outfit his mother had procured for him.

"Party under Foley, please," Tucker said flirtatiously to the receptionist at the hotel. "That's Tucker Foley," he gave her a winning grin.

The receptionist, a sprite blond girl with a ready smile, checked her registry. "I'm sorry," she said, "we've been fully booked out. There's some sort of party going on."

"Yes," Tucker agreed, throwing out his arm and gesturing to Danny, "for the coronation of our great nation's own Prince."

The girl stared on, unamused.

"Lay off, Tuck," Sam shushed. "We're with the Casper High Prom, please."\

"Oh, yes," the girl nodded. "Right through there. Dining hall A."

They thanked her and moved on. Danny's eyes moved around as he took in the scenery. They had clearly gone for a rustic look. An unlit fireplace was to the right of the reception desk and there were comfortable brown armchairs everywhere. Danny treaded the thin orange carpet, and ran his fingers along the cool stone wall. By the alcove that lead to Dining Hall A were rows of potted plants. Sam eyed the stuffed moose head hanging on the wall with some disdain.

The party was raging inside. The group paused and stared in amazement at the scene that greeted them. Gone was the mild atmosphere at the high school gym, where couples chose to mingle with friends rather than dance to the tuneless music the deejay played. Now there was a live band rocking the – considerably larger – stage, the lead singer dressed in an old-style leather jacket and pounding his head along to the music and he hollered into the microphone, His bandmates were just as lost in the music as he was, playing with abandon yet somehow coordinating enough to make the song work. And all around the stage were students, dressed in their most sophisticated outfits, yelling and screaming, throwing themselves to the front of the stage, jumping in time to the music and shoving at each other.

The prom had just turned into a moshpit.

Sam grabbed his hand tightly, and Danny automatically reached for Tucker.

"Let's go!" Sam commanded. The three of them took off running, leaving Winston and Eleanor to stand back and watch. With a whoop, the three of them launched themselves into the mob and began to thrash their way around.

Danny delighted in keeping up with his friends as they practically swam up to the front to grip the foot of the stage and stare reverently up at the band members.

After a series of songs ended and their voices faded away, the students calmed down long enough to give loud cheers and a resounding show of applause. Danny was breathless by this time, huffing and sweaty, but so, so alive. He wrapped his arms around Sam and Tucker's necks and together they made their way out of the crowd while the band took a breather.

"I think we all needed to do that," Sam said in a dreamy voice. Her hair was a tangle of waves. Danny turned to his right and saw Dash and Paulina exiting the crowd, looking flush and happy as well. Dash had removed his jacket off at some point, and his white shirt had come undone on one side. His hair hung back in looser waves than before now. Paulina had changed her outfit, choosing to go with something that offered a little more leg room. Clearly, she had known exactly what the afterparty would entail.

"Hey, baby," Tucker greeted a frosty-looking Eleanor when they got back. Danny supposed she was starting to truly regret her decision to wear a ballgown to the Prom now. He stretched his sated limbs, and told the group that he was going outside for some fresh air.

Danny spotted Dash as he walked to the doors that led to the balcony outside. The other boy wasn't paying attention, but Danny's heart began thudding harder as he thought about what he was going to do. It was crazy, it was lunacy, but there it was in his head, and he hadn't managed to get it out.

He gratefully passed through the arch doorway to the terrace-like balcony that overlooked the street below. Danny glanced off the side and saw many of his classmates socializing just outside the hotel's entrance, or having just arrived and ready to have a good time.

He was pulled out his observations when he heard a solitary set of footsteps shuffle outside. Instinctively, Danny slipped behind the door, pressing himself against a wall decorated with fake vines creeping along its surface.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Kwan emerge into view. The crown was being held on one hand by loose fingertips. His shoulders were slumped, heavy, and he floated past the little loveseat carved in stone in the middle of his path, moving to stand at the curved rim of the expansive balcony. He rested his arms on the wide granite railing. The crown slipped from the hooks of his fingers to clatter on the floor by his feet. Kwan didn't seem to notice. He stood there, hunched over the railing and staring out at the stars in the night sky. Danny held his breath.

There was another set of footsteps, brisk and sure. Danny heard the clacking of high heels before Star appeared in his line of sight. The sash she'd been given was gone, but the tiara still sat proud on her head. Her sparkling gold dress showed off her tight figure to full advantage in the distant light of the party just behind her. She stopped, hands on her hips, and stared silently at Kwan's back for a long minute before saying anything.

"Everyone's worried about you, you know."

Kwan turned around to look at her. "What?" he rasped.

"I know Dash doesn't say anything because he doesn't think he can, but it's true. Ever since you got back from the hospital, you've been so distant."

Kwan turned back to resume gazing out at the stars. "There's nothing to worry about," he said in a mechanical voice.

"Really," Star said skeptically, moving forward. "Then why is it that Dash tells me you've barely been speaking to him since you got out?"

"I speak to Dash," Kwan defended, some color entering his voice now.

"Because he told me that it's starting to scare him," Star continued as if he hadn't said anything.

"I'm not trying to scare anybody," Kwan said in a low tone. Then, in what Danny could only assume to be an attempt to lighten the subject, Kwan adopted a joking voice and added, "Besides, Paulina's not scared."

"Of course Paulina's not scared," Star scoffed. "Nothing scares Paulina." Her voice dropped to pleading tone, "But you're scaring me."

There was a long pause. Star had reached Kwan now and was looking up st him. From his vantage point, Danny could see that she had laid one of her small hands on his hand. Kwan was staring at her, and even from where he stood, Danny could read the intensity in his look.

"What if I told you," he began in such a soft voice Danny had to struggle to hear, "that I've been ... seeing things. In my head?"

"You mean, memories?" Star whispered. Kwan shook his head.

"No," he said. "No, they can't be. I see ... things. A sudden flash of the sky. Moving so fast I feel like my skin will fall off. Pain..."

"They say he dropped you out of the sky," Star told him softly. "Danny Phantom."

Kwan broke his gaze with her to return staring out the balcony, to the town of Amity Park spread ahead. "It didn't feel like falling," he murmured.

He shifted his body, turned so that he could better look at her. "There's something ... there's something I have to do," he admitted. "Something that's keeping me from moving on, Star. Staying at that hospital – I thought I was going to go crazy. All I know is I woke up one day and no one could tell me what put me there. Just ideas." He shook his head. "What is it about the past few months that I can't remember? It has to be something, something connected. All I know is, _he's_ involved somehow – and I had to spend all night looking at his face on the walls.""

He leaned forward, pressing himself against the railing of the balcony. "I see his face, sometimes," he continued. "Just little flashes; and I spend all night asking myself, how did I manage to see him so close?" His fingers clenched together. "He's the key. He's the one who knows what happened that day. It's been eating at my mind. I stayed in that hospital for days, and it was like a shadow hanging over me, bringing it up in my mind over and over—"

That was Spectra, of course, Danny knew; feeding upon Kwan's fear and his confusion. She may have even been the one to help him remember as much as he did..

Star wrapped his hands in hers, pulling him off his spiel, then clutched his face with both hands, staring deep into his eyes. "It doesn't matter," she said. "It doesn't matter. You're here, and _I'm_ here. We're together and we've just been named Prom King and Queen, and I am going to make you forget _everything_."

"Yes," Kwan croaked, moving closer. "Make me forget."

They met each other in a kiss, encircling their arms around each other. Kwan and Star had slowly made their way closer to the love seat in the middle of the terrace, and in an almost graceful manner, managed to land on it without breaking their embrace. Kwan's hands ran up the length of Star's back, tangling in her hair, yet going up further, until his fingers brushed the crown that adorned her head, pushing it off, so that it landed carelessly, tainted, on the floor on its side amongst the fallen leaves.

Danny pressed himself back against the concrete wall, turning intangible and fading back to the other side, where the party was still going.

His feet felt like lead, and his heart was thumping forcefully against his chest. He stepped away from the wall and quickly crossed the room, returning to the reception area, planning to go out the front way so that he could think. He still needed to prepare himself for his plan tonight.

He pushed open the front doors and stepped out into the night, then froze. All the people he had seen hanging out front earlier had gone in, now that the party was in full force, leaving only one familiar figure smoking a cigarette. Danny heard the last of the drunken arrivals laugh happily as they entered the establishment. Dash turned around, taking notice of Danny for the first time since everyone had left the gym.

"You and Manson seem a cozy couple tonight." Was it just him, or did Dash sound bitter?

"Likewise, for you and Paulina," Danny commented as Dash made to stub out his cigarette. Dash gave him a derisive snort and turned around, looking at Danny properly. They stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say, then Dash shook his head and walked past, about to go inside.

"Dash, wait," Danny heard himself call.

Dash paused.

Danny didn't say anything else. His blood rushed in his veins, and his chest started to heave with effort as his breathing grew more labored. For a long time, they remained in that position; Danny was afraid he wasn't going to be able to think up anything else to say.

"I don't want to be like this," he found himself saying. Dash still remained silent.

Danny pivoted on his feet. "You have to come with me."

Dash turned around too, giving him a curious look. "Where are we going?" he asked thickly.

Danny looked about, trying to find a secure place from prying eyes and ears. "Over there," he decided, nodding to a spot around the corner. Without giving himself enough time to think, he reached out and grabbed Dash's hand. "Come on," he urged, starting to move his long legs already. Dash resisted only for a moment, then went with him.

They rounded the corner, and Danny fell back to lean against the wall. Dash watched him as he tried to calm himself down.

"I have to go," he said suddenly. "Paulina will be wondering where I went,"

"Stay," Danny implored. He had hoped for more time to plan this through, but it looked like it was crunch time now. Time to find out if he had what it took to go through with it. Time to find out if this was worth fighting for. "I have to show you something. Something big."

Dash huffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "If it's in your pants, I've seen it already," he said petulantly. "And trust me, it's not that big."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Danny snickered. After all, he still was an eighteen-year-old boy.

"No, Dash, you have to believe me," Danny said, fixing him with a solemn gaze. He straightened himself up, moving closer to Dash's defensive form. "What I'm about to show you is probably the most important thing about myself. I need to know that I can trust you with it," he took a deep breath. "And I do."

Dash must have sensed the gravity of the situation from the look on Danny's face, for his arms fell away and he took a step back, not taking his eyes off the smaller boy. Danny stared back at him for a moment, then his eyes fell shut and he bowed his head to concentrate.

Two rings of light encapsulated his body and slowly moved in opposite directions. As they traversed up and down the length of his form, the features began to change. His magnificent blue suit was replaced by a familiar black jumpsuit, his hair turning pure white, and his deep blue eyes giving way to green. Dash leaned back, lips parted in disbelief, and took two slow, involuntary paces back. His arms hung limp by his sides as Danny Fenton slowly disappeared, and Danny Phantom raised his head to look upon him with proud eyes.

Dash said nothing, a thunderstruck look upon his face. Danny took one cautious step forward. "I know how you must feel—"

But Danny was not prepared to have the full force of Dash's weight thrown at him as the other boy wrapped his arms around Danny's neck and drew close so that his face was only several inches away from Danny's. "I knew you weren't a waste of time!" Dash cried out, and pulled Danny into a long, searing kiss.

Danny let out a surprised sound, stumbling forward with Dash's enthusiasm, and finally aligning their heads so that their mouths fit perfectly against each other. Dash probed about his tongue searchingly, and Danny let out an uncontrolled moan. As Dash's tongue darted in past his teeth to explore his mouth in just the way Danny had been longing for, Danny took all the reservations, all the hurt, all the pain, and turned it into the passion he needed to fulfil his hunger.

His gloved hands treaded up Dash's back and into his hair, hanging thick and loose now, as their lips pressed urgently at one another. Dash shoved Danny against the wall, both of his palms slapping over the cold concrete of the exterior wall on either side of Danny's head. Danny curved his body so that his groin was pressed flush against Dash's thigh, even as moved his hands from where they rested upon the wall to pull at Danny's black jumpsuit, trying to bring him in closer.

Danny pulled away from Dash's lips with a heady gasp. "Wait, wait—" he breathed, trying to hold Dash at bay. "Let's not do this here. Let's—"

Dash nodded along, pretending to care, as he leaned forward and captured Danny's lips in a blistering kiss again. Danny's eyes slid shut and he let out another unrestrained groan. How he had missed this.

"Dash—" Danny panted next time they broke apart. "Dash—" He failed to get anything out that time either before Dash was on him once again, prying his lips open with his slippery tongue. Danny hit the back of his head against the wall with a satisfying thud and suckled on Dash's tongue with a promising nip as it drew back.

"Not here," he said again when they came up for air once more. "Let's go somewhere ... anywhere."

Dash almost didn't seem capable of talking; he had moved down to Danny's throat now, laving the sensitive skin with feather-light kisses, provoking Danny into making more wanton sounds. Danny managed to pull away, finally, as Dash's inquisitive kisses started to tickle. He gave Dash a reassuring peck on the lips, a fond smile on his face, unable to believe just how well his revelation had gone over. His head was starting to grow clearer now. Now that he had Dash back, he most certainly did not want to celebrate their reunion here, in a house full of their friends and classmates. He offered his arm to Dash with a benevolent smile.

Dash's face was full of open trust, and he pressed his hand into Danny's willingly. Danny reached out and pulled the bigger boy to him, eliciting a gasp, and braced his legs before taking off into the air. Dash let out a surprised sound, and gathered himself closer in Danny's arms. Danny couldn't see very well with Dash obstructing his view, but it was alright; he had long stopped depending on his eyesight to guide him about his town.

He felt Dash crane his neck to take in the sights as they soared higher. The landmarks below them started to grow smaller, and Danny propelled himself forward, readjusting Dash's weight so that he was holding on to the other boy more evenly, rather than cradling him in his arms.

"I don't understand how this is possible," Dash admitted to him as they flew past the crowds.

In response, Danny cupped the blond boy's strong jaw and kissed him deep. "Later," he promised. "I'll tell you everything later."

For now, Dash was lost in the sights of Amity Park whizzing by them, and Danny was lost in the sight of Dash, of the wonderment in his eyes, the way his jaw seemed permanently unhinged. And Danny knew exactly where to take him.

He pushed himself further, steely determination on his face. Dash's hair blew wildly in the sharp wind; it was a complete mess by the time Danny set them down on firm ground, but there was such a look of untamed joy lighting up the blond boy's face that Danny couldn't even bring himself to laugh.

"Where are we?" Dash had to ask.

"Castle's Point," Danny informed, gazing out to the glimmering lights of Amity Park below them. "Highest point in all the town. I come here sometimes, to think. I – I wanted to share it with you."

Dash brought himself to rub against Danny's torso, a sad sort of look on his face. "I didn't know," he murmured. "I didn't know or I would've..."

Danny silenced him with a kiss. "Doesn't matter," he repeated. "None of it matters. We're here now."

"Danny," Dash whispered. Danny kissed him again. They stood there, underneath a great tree with its leaves ruffling in the wind and the city a reminder in the distance. Danny's hands roamed down to Dash's waistband, brushing against the run of his white jacket. Unable to help himself, he deepened the kiss, clutching at Dash's jacket and pushing it off his shoulders.

Dash let out a little noise and wiggled his body, shrugging off the offending piece. Danny's hands quickly moved to the boy's trousers, unsnapping it and beginning to zip it down. Dash helped kick it off as it lowered down his calves, toeing off the expensive white leather shoes he was wearing in the process. Neither of them broke their kiss.

Danny's hands returned to tug at Dash's black silk boxers, fingers grazing against his inner thigh teasingly. Dash moved away, parting their lips with a smacking sound. "Mmph. No."

Danny immediately moved his hands away, thinking he'd done something to offend, but Dash said again, "No – not here. Don't want to do it here—"

"Where?" Danny mouthed against Dash's skin. He pulled back in time to see Dash's eyes fill with significant meaning as his right arm lifted off Danny's bicep. Four fingers curled in, leaving only Dash's index finger standing, pointing upright as Dash lifted his arm earlier.

Danny turned his eyes in the direction Dash was pointing, flicking upwards to take in the twinkling stars spread across the inky blue sky.

Understanding flooded him as he brought his gaze back on the blond jock waiting for his answer. They stared at each other for a full minute, each trying to gather themselves as much as possible. Danny was trembling as he leaned forward to capture Dash in a soft, poignant kiss once more.

His hands trailed up Dash's beefy arms. He didn't ask if he was sure; he already knew the answer. Danny's fingers tightened around Dash, gripping him almost painfully as they both started to rise slowly into the air, hovering mere inches above grass.

Dash did not look scared, he didn't look afraid; he was just staring at Danny, anticipation written all over his face.

As they started to rise higher, Dash's bare feet moving up to where the grass could not tickle his soles, Danny closed the distance between their bodies, effortlessly bringing Dash's arms around his torso to cling on to his back. Dash wrapped his legs, still clad in his black boxers, around Danny's knees, while Danny used one fumbling hand to shift the lower part of his jumpsuit downwards, exposing his cock to the cool air. He felt his shaft harden even while Dash's crotch stirred in interest, pressed up against Danny's belly. Together, with a shared sense of coordination, Dash's legs crawled up higher as his boxer shorts shucked down his thighs to expose his pale, firm ass.

Danny was so focused on Dash's face he failed to realize until now that they were actually rotating on the spot as he lifted them slowly into the air. They were fifteen feet above the ground when he realized they were moving in a circle.

Tilting his head and coming in for a kiss, Danny hoisted Dash's thighs in his hands until they were in the perfect position. Dash's nose whistled sharply as he was moved about suddenly and left to find his center to hold on to. With strenuous effort, Dash raised his body up again from where he had slipped and then, from that, they found the position they wanted.

Dash's cock was hard and ready, pressed up between Danny's jumpsuit and his white shirt; the tip was an angry red, and if Danny looked down at it, he could see the pink head peeking out, already starting to form a bead of white.

Danny's own cock, in turn, had reached its full length, so hard it almost hurt. Darker than Dash's cock, his pointed straight out, and he surreptitiously angled it so that it brushed against the crack of Dash's ass.

"How – how—" Dash gasped with pleasure, trying valiantly to form the words, "how are we going to do this?"

It was a good question. They had long left the safety of terra firma, hanging on to each other in mid-air amongst the clouds. Danny could see the moon, larger than he had ever seen it before, highlighting the scene for them. He kissed Dash reassuringly. Though he had never done this before in his life – certainly never while floating in the sky as his alter-ego – he thought he had an idea. He would only need Dash to trust him in order to concentrate.

"I'm going to make it good for you," he promised with a tender press of his lips.

"Want you now," Dash sighed. "I want to feel you in me – Danny, Danny..."

They kissed once more, deep, but short; the fires that stoked their need had moved elsewhere, and their kisses no longer were so hungry. Danny had his mind on another goal, determined to give Dash and part of him in return for what the other boy was giving him.

"Trust me," he uttered against Dash's lips. "Just relax."

Dash's arms tightened around Danny's back, but his legs loosened their hold, falling apart, spreading his thighs wider in open invitation. Danny bolstered Dash's grip with his arms, rendering them useless to fulfil his need to open Dash up, relax him enough to welcome him in.

Closing his eyes, Danny focused on what he was about to do, pictured it in his mind. His cock remained waiting, lodged against Dash's ass and trapped between their legs as the two boys tried to use each other for support. Shifting his hips upward a little, Danny felt the head of his sensitive tool brush up against Dash's hole. The sharp inhalation Dash gave indicated that he, too, had felt it.

Danny's fingers curled themselves in Dash's hair distractingly. Danny kept his focus on the picture in his head. The tip of his cock was pressed against Dash's entrance, the ring of muscle there preventing him from breaching further. As though directing all the energy in his body, Danny squeezed his eyes shut in effort, and pictured the head of his cock turning intangible; then he directed it to the very part of him that was perfectly poised against Dash's hole, and transferred it over to the other boy's body. Dash let out a mystified sound as he felt himself opening up; Danny grinned. In his mind's eye, he could see it playing out perfectly. The intangibility he had localized to his dick moving upwards to transfer over to the ring of muscle, turning that elastic rim that was offered to him into nothingness, eliminating the barrier that promised him heaven. He let out a gratified moan as the head of his cock began to slide into Dash.

Dash thrashed his head in pleasure; unable to feel the rim of his hole being stretched open had eliminated all the pain, leaving him to deal with only the shock of adjusting to this new invader, this foreign piece trying to bury itself deep inside him. But oh, he wanted – he _wanted_ to give himself over, wanted to feel Danny seat himself inside of him. The gasp that escaped his mouth was warbled and fell off his lips to escape into the atmosphere.

The air was colder around them now; they had flown so high the stars seemed close, and Danny and Dash's breath puffed into their faces as they breathed into each other's mouths. Danny's green eyes burned themselves into Dash's brain, and he threw his head back, relishing the feeling of Danny hard and strong inside him.

Danny, for his part, was practically delirious with the ecstasy of Dash's tight heat. He had yet to move, though the need to gain that last little bit of friction was positively overwhelming. Dash made a keening noise in the back of his throat, which Danny took as his way of imploring him to _move_.

Slowly, Danny drew himself out, revelling in the feel of the cool night air whipping at his engorged shaft as he left the velvet warmth of Dash's hole only to plunge back in just a moment later. Dash let out a cry as he was penetrated fully, even deeper than before. Danny's arms tightened around him.

Dash's cry segued into a succession of huffing and panting as he tried to get used to the sensation of Danny pulling out and shoving in again and again. Danny, for the most part, tried his level best to prevent himself from going too fast. He needed to make sure Dash was ready, but trying to lock himself for too long within this perfect pressure was absolute hell.

The moon illuminated Dash's classic good looks for him, Danny drank in the blissful curve of the jock's lips, the crease in his brow that denoted his rapturous feelings. Danny's cock felt huge, expanded by almost too much blood, every little bit of him that was capable of feeling wanting to experience this heat.

Dash's cock lay unperturbed between them, leaking more than ever now. Danny wished he could reach it, wanted to move his hands from where they supported Dash's frame and take him in his grasp, feel the thick flesh around him as he pumped up and down, bringing Dash to the brink along with him.

Not that he needed it; Danny kept his eyes blown wide so that he wouldn't miss a second of the agonizing, _fantastic_ looks that passed over his lover's face. Dash still could not bear to open his eyes, and his mouth clenched hard, showing off his teeth as a way of compounding the strain on his face. Danny leaned forward and began to nibble on Dash's chin.

Dash's eyes flew open with a strangled cry, almost as if he'd forgotten Danny had lips, a tongue, other means of reaching him and increasing his pleasure. Danny moved his head to the side, attacking Dash's neck as his hips pulled out then snapped back in. Dash let out a grunt on pleasure.

When Danny looked back down at the blond boy's cock, he noted with satisfaction that it had grown even bigger than before. It looked ready to explode, like a volcano waiting for the chance to erupt. Maybe, Danny thought lustfully, Dash wouldn't even need to be touched. God, would that not be something, driving the other boy to the edge just like this, only like this, and he gave another vigorous thrust, tearing out more pleasured shouts from Dash's throat.

Dash leaned his head down and bit his shoulder, hard enough for Danny to feel the edges of his teeth underneath the cool material of his jumpsuit. He gave another thrust.

"D – Danny—" Dash whispered into the half-ghost's ear. "Danny..."

Danny bit into his lip, squeezing his eyes shut once more. They spun together, slowly, at a nearly-glacial pace, against the background of a humongous moon. Danny's hands scrabbled at Dash's shirt and Dash's fingers clawed at whatever part of Danny they could reach, while their bare bottoms tangled together, moving with wild abandon.

Danny huffed in broken breaths a few more times, driving his cock in and out of Dash with abandon, then threw his head back and yowled his release. He felt his cock throb over and over again as he released his seed deep into the other boy's body. Dash squeezed his thighs together around Danny's ribs, and the overall effect made his body tighten, even with his hole completely intangible, bringing Danny over into another state of bliss as he shot his release. The pressure built inside of Dash, and within moments, he too opened his mouth in a silent yell as his cum shot out between them.

By the time they had managed to collect themselves and their breathing turned normal, Danny had already landed them back on to the grassy knoll of Castle's Point. His chest was still heaving with the exertion of what they had just accomplished, but Danny wouldn't give up the indescribably joyful feelings roaring about in his diaphragm for anything in the world.

Dash collapsed backwards to settle on the ground bonelessly. Danny joined him, curling up to his side and watching his face. Dash lay on his back, staring up at the night sky, as though recounting what they had just been a part of only minutes ago. He turned to take in Danny's face as Danny gazed up at him, waiting. Wordlessly, Dash extended his arm out. After a moment, Danny took it, and they lay on the grass, catching their breath, holding hands.

After a moment, Dash pulled himself and Danny up to a sitting position and kissed Danny shamelessly.

"I'm tired of playing games, Danny," Dash announced when they parted. "Enough of going round and round. I'm ready to take this forward. Let's just _be_ together," he searched Danny's face with his eyes.

Danny nodded along. That sounded good. That sounded real good.

They spent long hours together that night, holding on to each other, kissing and talking on the bank of the hill. Before long, Danny got to his feet again and held out his hand for Dash to take. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Dash asked curiously, taking Danny hand.

"You'll see," Danny promised confidently, tossing the locks of white hair that had fallen into his eyes. They had put their clothes back on a while ago, though they looked much worse for wear than when the evening began.

Dash and Danny stood across from each other, hands clasped together. Danny forced Dash to keep his eyes trained on him with his most piercing look, and slowly started to raise them up into the air once more. Dash's weight didn't falter with Danny to boost him. Before Dash even realized it, they were amongst the stars again, thirty feet from the ground.

Danny's smile turned mischievous, and he started to pull his body away, edging farther from Dash, until their arms stretched to maximum limit to keep them locked together. Dash let out a cry as he started to grow unsteady on his feet, but Danny tightened his grip, pressing the pad of his thumb hard against the pulse point under Dash's wrist. Slowly, Danny began to pull them forwards so that they drifted through the sky, fingers interlaced and bodies pointed away from each other. Dash's look of consternation was replaced with one of delight as he realized what they were doing.

They were skating on thin air.

Danny let out a laugh when Dash struggled to keep his legs from weaving about as they moved along the air, then pulled him in so that he was smooshed against Danny's thin but capable body.

The sky over Amity Park that night was illuminated by the laughs and shouts of two delighted boys as they skated amongst the twinkling stars spread across the inky blue sky.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** So ... was it worth the wait?


	41. I Shot An Arrow Into The Air

Morning came with brilliant fare. Danny stirred in his sleep as the first rays of light cracked through his eyelids and shifted his body as the first rush of sunlight washed over him. He let out a contented murmur from the back of his throat before his eyes fluttered open and took in his surroundings.

His shoulders twitched from the cold wind that brushed against his naked skin, his senses coming awake and realizing his unprotected state. His now disheveled suit was draped about him like so many rags, and easily slid down his form. Absently, he rubbed his hands against his forearms, and blinked away the last dregs of his sleepiness. As his eyes focused on the sky, he felt himself lose his breath in a rush of air.

The view was truly breathtaking. Large, pale stripes of sunlight pierced through a bed of clouds to paint the sky a vivid pink. Overhead large swathes of inky black bearing sparkling stars were giving to navy blue. The entire town of Amity Park was spread out for him to see, twinkling streetlights blinking out in unison, one block at a time, as the first signs of life started making itself known. Birds began chirping overhead, greeting Danny with their beautiful music. Danny's eyes trailed along the path of a butterfly that had caught his attention. When finally it flitted too far away for him to follow any longer, his eyes slid over to the slumbering form of Dash Baxter.

Danny brought himself closer to the larger boy, a soft smile playing on his lips. Last night had been one of – if not _the_ greatest – nights of his life. Looking down at the other boy's profile, sleeping on his side with his back turned to Danny, Danny found it hard to believe where he was. Who could have ever guessed that Dash Baxter would be the one here now, waking up next to him in the morning glow? It was so strange to think back on their history now, everything from the first day they had met, to that time in third grade when they had been forced to sit next to each other all semester, up to even a scant few months ago.

Another updraft blew by, and Danny shivered, burrowing himself under his jacket once more. Dash, likewise, rested underneath a bundle of his white tuxedo, snuggling deeper into their folds in search of warmth. Danny's smile turned into a smirk as he sidled up to the blond. As he drew his hand around Dash's slim waist, the other boy stirred, peeking his head up from where it had been lying on crooked arm. Danny watched as Dash slowly rotated his body around, blinking awake. Danny's smirk bloomed into a full grin then as he took in Dash's sleepy visage. His hair fell about him in loose waves now, framing his face and baby blue eyes. With his carved features and strong jaw, he looked near-angelic against the backdrop of sunlight. A sweet smile blossomed on his face when he took in the sight of Danny watching him.

"Hi," Danny whispered.

"Hi," Dash said throatily. He leaned forward and placed a firm kiss on Danny's lips. Danny welcomed it with fervor. Dash's weight pushed him down on his back as the larger boy edged closer to deepen the kiss. Danny was left panting lightly once they broke apart, his arms still wrapped around Dash's neck from when he'd pulled him in closer.

"Last night was…" Danny started to say.

"Unbelievable," Dash finished for him, leaning in and stealing another kiss. "Last night was…"

"Perfect," Danny whispered against Dash's lips, kissing him again. The two lovers stayed there, content to kiss slowly and take their time. Danny felt a stirring at his crotch as Dash's tongue edged into his mouth. His own tongue lifted up to greet it, and they slowly danced around each other. Danny let out a moan when Dash's tongue darted over to lick at his lower lip. Dash adjusted their positions so as to get more comfortable, and Danny parted his legs to allow him to slot between them. He felt Dash roll his body around so that he was lying flat on his back now with Dash on his haunches above him, their lips never parting, while Dash's hands traversed up his arms until they were finally hand-in-hand.

Their lips moved frantically as Dash pressed his weight down upon Danny. A soft moan escaped from the back of Danny's throat when he felt Dash's cock, heavy and huge brush past his thigh to grind firmly against his own shaft. The pressure of Dash's arms bearing down on Danny's own increased, pinning them to the ground.

Dash pulled away from Danny's lips to target the spot just below his ear, causing Danny to tense, then rear his head back, exposing more skin for Dash to lave attention upon . His fingers curled into the grass and his breath turned ragged as Dash proceeded to drag his hips up against Danny's bonier frame, their cocks sliding together to provide much-needed friction.

Danny threw his head back, breaking the hold Dash's lips had on him, feeling hardly able to handle what he was feeling. Dash slid back down, the tip of his cock dampening the underside of Danny's shaft. Dash paused for a moment, before pushing their dicks together and thrusting up against Danny again, forcing out a guttural sound from the other boy. Dash's breath caught in his throat when he heard it.

The wind blew ever colder through the hilltop, but the two boys hardly noticed it now; their rags had shifted enough so that their upper halves were exposed, but caught up as they were in the heat of the moment, neither seemed to feel any sort of discomfort. Danny bit his lips and arched his spine up against the bulk of Dash's body on top of him; his hands were still being pinned down, and almost gave the impression that the boy was struggling against the pain, but in truth, Danny felt nearly delirious from the waves of pleasure pulsing beneath his skin as Dash breathed hotly into his ear.

Wide, leafy blades of grass curled underneath him, Danny felt as he kept his eyes tightly, cracking them open only when next he sucked in a great gulp of air, to take in the wondrous sight of a pale pink sky overhead him with large wisps of white cloud. He couldn't find the sun, but the angle of his head allowed him to take in the large tree that stood to the side of them, near the precipice of the hill. His eyes slid shut once again when he felt Dash's teeth nip into his shoulder blade.

He turned his head and blindly sought out Dash's lips, settling back down in the grass again only when Dash's mouth met his own in another fervent kiss. He barely had time to brace himself before another shockwave ripped through him as Dash brought their hips together again.

His movements were fierce, strong; not like the way they were during their first days together, exploring each other, feverishly searching out all the places they could touch, moving so fast to get to that place together – Dash moved surely above him now; Danny opened his eyes wide to find ice-blue staring down at him, Dash's jaw locked tight, but a tender smile quirking his lips; Danny felt Dash move against him like they'd known each other forever. His head dipped to gather his earlobe between his teeth and gently nibble on it; though his hips smashed with Danny's own, Dash never lost control of the light grip he had over the sensitive flesh.

Danny's arms went to encircle Dash's broad back, settling for his trimmer mid-rift so that his fingers intertwined together around his lover. Dash stole Danny's lips into another wide-mouthed kiss, their tongues dueling again. Dash's arms were now braced on either side of Danny's frame, but Dash managed to momentarily brush one hand through Danny's thick locks of hair adoringly.

Dash's brow furrowed in renewed concentration as he increased the speed of his thrusts against Danny's slippery skin. Danny's breath came out in broken puffs when his body was jolted up and down by the power behind Dash's drive. Their cocks were drenched slick with their juices mixing together. A bead of sweat broke out from Dash's forehead, rolling down his cheek and collecting at his jawline. Danny felt a spike of lust shoot through him gazing at it.

Dash's eyes had darkened now, and out of his periphery, Danny saw his fingers curl. Almost instantly following, the pace of Dash's grinding increased further. There was a look of intense concentration on Dash's face now as he worked to get the both of them off. Danny pulled his arms away from the blond's back and used them to dig his fingers into the tender flesh of the jock's sizable bicep, matching the passion in Dash's eyes with his own.

"God – Danny—" Dash burst out suddenly. His eyes fluttered closed and he rested his forehead against Danny's. Their fringes were matted down with perspiration. Their breaths melded hot and blew in the space between their mouths before Danny closed the gap between them in a yearning kiss. Dash's lips yielded warm and willing against his, and with one final jab of his dick that pushed Danny's own down and in to the supple skin of his abdomen, then Dash let out a cry before his cock started throbbing and his orgasm hit, sending gush after gush of warm liquid seeping out of the tip and flooding Danny's thighs with its sticky consistency.

The sensation of Dash's discharge coating his flesh sparked Danny's trigger, pushing him over the edge, and with a restrained grunt, Danny canted his hips up, bucking Dash somewhat with the force of his movements, and moaned out his own release. Only once the entirety of his own copious amount had been added to the mix deposited between their bodies did Danny slump down boneless, easily taking the brunt of Dash's weight on top of his own.

Danny had no doubt that there was a stupid, sated smile on his face when his eyes readjusted and the world came back to focus. Dash's features came into sharp view, looking half-ready to fall back asleep. Danny chuckled, and squirmed a little bit, nudging against Dash's frame to remind him of the position they were in. Dash seemed to immediately come back to himself, pulling himself back up using his arms, and rolling over so that Danny finally had space to breathe again. Danny's legs, propped up to keep Dash in place between them, slid down to lie flat on the ground.

The two of them stared up at the sky as they waited for their breathing to get back to normal; now that the sun was up, the sky was painted a light blue with thick white clouds drifting merrily through it. Dash stretched out his limbs and curled nest to Danny, drawing the raven-haired boy's attention and causing him to turn over to his side so that the two of them were looking deep into each other's eyes.

It was a long time before they spoke. The two boys lay there on the grass, feeling the breeze blow by, now warmer than it had been earlier; birds chirped happily from their positions on the large tree over them. Danny and Dash were still nude with their tuxedos piled around them to cover certain regions while leaving the most of their forms bare. The sun shone brightly above them. It was a beautiful day in Amity Park.

"I'm glad you're back," Danny found himself murmuring. There was a sharp prick behind his eyes, and for a second, he was horrified by the possibility of being about to cry.

But then Dash's lips moved into a quick smile, and suddenly it seemed that the sun started shining brighter, lighting up the entire world even further. Dash moved in and gave him a soft, sweet kiss, and everything was alright again.

Dash's arm wrapped around Danny's torso, and they lay like that together, contented. Danny pressed his nose against the hollow of Dash's clavicle and inhaled the trailing scent left over by the expensive cologne Dash had been wearing the night before. With Dash's arms enclosed around him, Danny couldn't help surrendering into the embrace, closing his eyes and sinking into the warmth around him, until he sank into unconsciousness once more.

* * *

The familiar ringtone of his cellphone was what finally pierced through the dark fog of Danny's sleep-veiled mind. His eyes flew open and darted over to Dash's peaceful face to make sure the sound hadn't awoken him. Surreptitiously, Danny pawed through the rags of clothing bundled at his waist, until finally he clutched against the familiar weight of his phone. Digging it out, he flipped it over in his hand to peer at the screen. Tucker. Danny pressed the phone to his ear and answered the call. "Hello?" he whispered.

"Dude?" Tucker answered in an equally-hushed tone. "What happened to you last night?"

Danny glanced over to where Dash was resting again, and slowly pulled away from his comforting hold. "Uh, what do you mean?" he questioned self-consciously, pulling up his wrinkled jacket over his bare shoulders.

"We tried to find you guys to say goodbye, and you were like, gone!" Tucker elaborated. "Did you and Sam leave together?"

"Sam?" Danny echoed blankly. "No, I wasn't with Sam."

"Oh," Tucker sighed. "I kind of thought the both of you would kind of … you know," he said. "I guess she must have left with Winston. Who knows, maybe she's still here now."

"Um, where _are_ you now?" Danny voiced.

"At the Amity Park Welcome," Tucker said nonchalantly. "They've got a buffet breakfast all laid out for us, and check this out – most kids aren't even awake yet; everyone's still too hung over. That's why I called you, to see if you were around."

"I'm not," Danny informed. "But why are you still at the Amity Park Welcome?"

"Well, the school paid for accommodation for the night," Tucker said in his ear, his voice now returning to a normal volume. "It would be stupid not to use it."

"'Stupid not to—'" Danny repeated, "Wait, Tucker, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"God, took you long enough to catch on." Danny could definitely hear the undercurrent of excitement running through his friend's voice now. "Dude, last night, Eleanor and I – it totally happened, man!" Tucker whooped, not bothering to lower his voice now. "She's still upstairs sleeping it off, and she said – and I quote – 'we totally have to do that again'!"

Danny couldn't fight off the full-sized grin he bore on his face listening to his friend's rambling. It seemed that Prom Night worked out for the best for everyone.

"Oh man, would you look at this spread," Tucker was smacking his lips on the other end of the line. "Dude, I could totally eat, like, ten horses right now. And a side of eggs at that."

There was a slight pause in the conversation as Danny listened to Tucker load himself up. "So, wait," Tucker said eventually, "what about you? Where did you go last night if you weren't with Sam?"

"Oh…" Danny rubbed at the nape of his neck, drinking in the wild beauty of his surroundings., "nowhere special."

"But you and Sam seemed to be getting so close – and you disappeared so early," Tucker continued; sounding mildly disappointed. "It was totally your night last night, dude – didn't _anything_ happen?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Danny said mischievously, his eyes returning once again to Dash's slumbering form.

There was a beat.

"You wouldn't say that," Tucker parroted; "What's that supposed to mean? Did you – did you meet someone?"

Danny couldn't suppress a slight giggle at the sudden curiosity in Tucker's voice. "I gotta go, Tuck – enjoy your breakfast!"

"Danny, wait!" Tucker protested. "Come on, I told you about my night! _Dude_—" His voice was cut off abruptly as Danny ended the call and tossed his phone down before curling up next to Dash once more, satisfaction running through him at the thought of being reunited with the other boy.

As he shifted Dash's arms to wrap around him so that he could once more burrow into the welcoming warmth he had been ensconced in, Dash's eyes began to flutter open and he let out a tired huff. Danny gazed up at him with an expectant smile, which Dash returned with a yawn and stretching his arms before returning them to Danny's side.

"I never realized how beautiful this town is," Dash started to say, "until the first time I hiked up here." He adjusted his position to that his arm supported the side of his head as he took in the sight of Amity Park waking up just beyond them. Danny rested his head on the crook of Dash's arm.

"After that, the view never looked as good to me as it did the first time I came up here," he continued, turning to glance at Danny. "Until now." The boys stared at each other. "Now, it's like looking at this place with brand new eyes again."

The two of them drew closer once more and Dash took Danny into his arms again. They lay together, warming up and feeling their hearts beating in time. As Danny felt Dash's legs tangle around his own, he closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh. It had been too long for them, too long since he'd felt like this.

His eyes reopened and he felt the questions nagging at him once more, questions about why Dash had pulled away from him, broken off without so much as a word of goodbye. He wanted to ask, wanted Dash's answers to all the questions he didn't dare to ask; instead he leaned in to the other boy's touch, purring when he felt Dash's lips softly press kisses around his jawline and arching his neck when he felt them trace along the shell of his ear.

Danny angled his head to take in another one of Dash's fervent kiss, feeling a shiver run up his spine as he nipped at the soft tissue of Dash's lower lip. The arousal was pooling in his belly once more, and though it was not uncommon for the two of them to resume their amorous activities so soon, Danny found himself pulling away, panting slightly into Dash's mouth.

"Wait, wait," he coaxed, running his arm down Dash's bicep. Dash gave a nonplussed grunt, shifting to attack Danny's tender neck once more. Danny groaned, feeling the edge of Dash's teeth graze against his skin. Finally Dash pulled away, looking flush and adorably messy.

"Couldn't resist," he said in a deliciously husky tone. Danny grinned, despite himself, looking up at the bigger boy. Dash lowered himself down to scoop Danny into his arms again, and this time, Danny found the words spilling out.

"So you're okay then?" he questioned softly, turning his eyes up to take in Dash's sleep-laden gaze. "About … last night?"

Dash stared down at him pensively for a moment, and Danny resisted the urge to squirm.

"I've spent the past four years idolizing Danny Phantom for everything he did," Dash finally stated, pulling away slightly so that he could better take in Danny's face. "Every time a ghost attacked the town and he showed up, I would go home feeling like I could fly – just like him."

There was a wistful smile on his face now, and Danny could tell that he was remembering their trip up to the stars the previous evening; it was the same look Sam and Tucker had on the first few times Danny took them for a ride through the sky.

"And all this time," Dash continued, bringing Danny out of his memories to find the jock staring intensely at him, "all this time I never thought that he might be someone…" he took Danny's hand in his and started running the pad of his thumb on the delicate wrist, "…someone that I cared for."

Danny wanted to be comforted by the words; he wanted to take them and wrap them around himself the way he had Dash's arms wrapped securely around him now; instead he pulled away. "Then why did you—" _go_, _leave_, _abandon me?_

He didn't have to say the words; he could see the change overtake Dash's face as the blond boy heaved a sigh and rolled on to his back, taking in the azure canvas above.

"Wasn't fair," Danny murmured, almost certain that he had said it too softly for the other boy to hear.

"No," Dash's agreement surprised him. "It wasn't fair."

He turned to look at Danny again, who propped himself up on arm expectantly. "Danny," Dash sighed, pulling away again.

"The day after Senior Breakfast, when we were all waiting for your sister's rally," he started, resolutely keeping his eyes fixed on the large tree that loomed over them, "I met with Lancer," he admitted.

Danny knew this of course, but didn't say so; part of him wanted to let Dash continue uninterrupted, let him get it all off his chest; and another part of him wanted to watch him do it, wanted to watch him try to find the words to justify his actions the same way Danny had tried to justify it inside his head all week.

"You remember how Lancer and Connor said that I would have to meet with them to talk about your progress?" Dash prompted, and Danny nodded. "Well, that's what Lancer wanted to talk about; I should have kept him updated more often, I guess – he grew kind of suspicious." At Danny's alarmed look, Dash hurried to clarify, "Not about _that_ – I mean," he let out a frustrated sigh, "he could see that we were becoming … close. And one of the rules of that stupid support group is that we're not supposed to get attached."

That made sense. Danny knew from the conversation he'd overheard between them that Lancer was wary about his, Danny's, influence over Dash.

As if sensing Danny's turmoil, Dash slid over to lean in close to him again and fixed him with a serious stare.

"All my life," he said quietly, "I've had people tell me what it is I'm supposed to do. All I've ever done is follow a blueprint someone else drew up for me, and I've never had reason to question it."

He took Danny's hands and clasped them between his own again. Danny found himself unable to tear himself away from the sincerity that shined in Dash's blue eyes.

"But?" Danny hardly dared to whisper.

"But," Dash repeated, as if it were a confession. Then he leaned in and devoured Danny's mouth in a hungry kiss.

When once they separated again, both sets of lips burning with sensation, Dash lay back on the flat grass as though exhausted. The two of them listened to the song of a lone bird overhead for a few moments, before Dash continued once more.

"When we were at the Nasty Burger that morning," his voice came out thick, "Lancer started saying all these … _awful_ things. Things I couldn't stand to hear. And when I left, I left feeling so …" he met Danny's eyes again, "Empty."

"It wasn't right, Danny, but – I needed space," he said. "Lancer had just told me to start following orders again, and I've _never_ disobeyed before now. I never had a reason to disobey." He shrugged. "Why should I, when he only wants the best for me? He believes in me, way, _way_ more than I believe in myself."

Dash's grip upon his hand tightened, and he licked his lips before continuing, "But I believe in you." A small smile played on the corner of his lips. "Even before last night – I believe in you, and the things that you can do, and," he broke off, suddenly appearing quite shy, "I believe in the things you make me feel for you."

Danny felt his heart swell at the words. No one had ever said that to him before; certainly he _knew_ people believed in him; his parents, for example, were always ready to believe that he was the same shining example Jazz was, unless he gave them reason not to; Jazz always believed that he would be able to pull through the situations life threw his way; and his friends always believed that he would be there; they believed he was their rock. But none of them had ever said it before, not like that.

Dash shifted around so that their faces were suddenly only inches apart. The smile was gone, replaced with one of extreme sadness, and the circles he had been rubbing into Danny's palm with his thumb had gone from bold and vigorous to gentle and slow.

"I used to feel so dead inside," he confided in a faint tone. "Everything became so routine for me, my place in this town – it's like there was just nothing left to look forward to; just another day to count off the calendar. I didn't even know that I'd stopped caring about it all until," his other hand came up to brush Danny's face, "until I had something to look forward to again."

They drew close, and the kiss was sweet, but no less passionate. Danny gripped on to Dash tight, so tight it was as if he was scared of letting go. As their tongues sought out each other, so did their hands, and once more Danny felt his skin come alive.

* * *

There was no greater thrill than riding through the air, save one; much as he enjoyed the feel of the wind whistling past his ears and chopping against his skin, Danny found himself thrilling evermore at the whooping sounds of joy that escaped Dash's lips as they soared past the birds. When finally they descended upon the familiar sight of the Baxter residence, Danny had to fight to keep from laughing at the look of wild excitement that adorned the jock's face, coupled with his flushed cheeks and mussed up hair. He safely deposited Dash onto the concrete balcony, then hovered before him in midair.

"What are you going to do now?" Danny asked.

Dash smoothed out his ruffled hairdo and flashed the half-ghost an elated grin. "I was thinking I would sleep some more, but I don't think I could after _that_."

Danny snickered. Dash would sleep. He wasn't used to flying yet, and his body would be far more exhausted than he realized.

Danny drew in closer, a flirtatious look coming over him. "Last night," he started to say, wanting to get the emotions bubbling inside him out, "last night was—"

Dash leaned over the railing and silenced him with a firm kiss. "Perfect," he concluded, when they parted. Danny swallowed, green eyes still closed, and nodded. Dash gave him another peck on the lips before drawing back.

"Goodnight, Danny," he bade, his voice husky once more. Then he turned around, and giving the half-ghost one last wave goodbye, closed the French doors and disappeared from sight.

Danny let out a long, slow exhale, feeling his bones melt with the outpour. "Goodnight, Dash," he murmured to himself, not giving a thought to the way the sun shone brightly down on him.

He swooped through the air lazily then, his mind playing back images of the previous night. Last night had truly been perfect.

* * *

Amity Park was truly a sight to behold in the springtime. Lush green dotted with blooming flowers decorated the city, and now in this time when the town was moving past the budding stages of the season and headfirst into the throes of summertime, Danny found himself appreciating the unique quality of his little town more than ever.

He was strolling the streets casually, enjoying the sights, and there was a dazzling smile that he found he just couldn't keep off his face. Everything seemed different, more alive to him. The bricks and mortar of the various buildings that surrounded him took on new hue, and the happy chatter of the people that surrounded him filled his ears and lifted him up. Truly, he had never felt so free in his life.

He found, to some surprise, that the Nasty Burger was bustling with activity as he passed by, before recalling the significance of the occasion. It was yet another tradition that belonged to the Casper High seniors: it was unofficial declaration that those who energy to spare the day after the Prom would converge at the local hangout, to meet and talk about the night that they had.

It was a sight to see now; peering through the window, Danny could find only couples filling the seats of the diner to capacity, wearing lovelorn gazes in their eyes, holding hands and excitedly showing off their new statuses as a result of that one magical night. He could see Jennifer and Barry over at the counter squabbling over what to order – though, Danny noted with some satisfaction, they never seemed inclined to let go of each other's hand; Mikey was situated to one corner with his own date, casually impressing her by tossing French fries into the air and catching them in his mouth; Kwan and Star were seated in a booth, far away from the rest of the students, sipping on milkshakes while staring devotedly at each other over the rim of their respective glasses with their hands clasped together.

Danny's grin widened when he spotted Sam, Tucker, Winston and Eleanor sharing a booth together. None of them were talking too much, quietly munching on their food – despite Tucker's phone call from the buffet line of the motel earlier, he was still gorging himself on the largest portion of the meal; Eleanor tiredly nursed at her soda, while Sam munched on her veggie burger.

Danny tapped on the window to get their attention, his grin growing ever wider when they caught sight of him. Sam and Tucker began gesticulating wildly to invite him to come in, so he bounded through the doors, waving hello to those who caught his eye, and made his way over.

"Looks like someone's become Mister Popular," Sam teased, making room for him to sit beside her.

"Speaking of which, where's your crown?" Tucker questioned through a mouthful of fries.

Danny self-consciously patted his head, as though checking to see if it was there, then shrugged offhandedly. "Well, it was great for last night, but I don't think it was really 'me'," he declared. "When did you guys get here?"

"Few minutes ago," Sam informed. "Where were you, anyway? We were looking for you last night."

"He won't say," Tucker piped up, cocking his eyebrow. "Apparently he met someone."

Sam turned wide eyes on him. Danny blushed and glared at Tucker, who at least had the grace to look abashed. "No I didn't," he brushed off. Technically it was true – he had met Dash Baxter a long, long time ago. Right now, they were merely getting better acquainted. "Anyway, how did things go?"

"Pretty good for everyone, I'd say," Sam said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, it was a pretty chill night," Tucker stated confidently, slinging an arm around Eleanor's shoulders and drawing her in. Sam, in turn, cozied up a little more to her own date. Danny watched with slight amusement. Everything seemed so wonderfully perfect to him today, being in this quaint little town, watching his friends fall in love – it was hard for him to believe that only mere days ago, everything had seemed so hopeless, that he had been trapped on the outside looking in. Now, he couldn't feel more connected to the people he loved, and it was all thanks to Dash.

"I'm going to have to take a shower," Eleanor was complaining. "That stupid motel only had two settings: freezing cold and scalding hot."

"I think I could use one too," Tucker drawled. "What say we take one together?"

Eleanor shoved at him. "Pig," she giggled.

Winston yawned and stretched at Sam's side. "I hate to break up the lovefest, but I'm going to have to get a move on myself if I want to make it home by tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. Winston nodded, so they stood up, Danny moving out of the way so that they could slide past.

"I think I'd better go too, lovebug," Eleanor said to Tucker. "I hope you're done eating."

"I'm never done eating," Tucker declared, but pushed the spare bits of food he had yet to devour away to one side all the same and standing up along with her. "What are you up to today, dude?" he asked.

Danny shrugged. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night but he felt nowhere close to tired; there was too much excitement thrumming in his veins for that.

"Well, in that case, Sam and I will probably come over later," Tucker decided, taking Eleanor's hand in his.

"Sounds great," Danny said earnestly. He could use the company, though he was certain he would spend their entire time together dodging questions about whom he'd spent the night with yesterday. Tucker nodded and bade him goodbye, walking Eleanor out the door.

"Man, Fenton, I think you're the only one here who came alone today," he heard a familiar voice say.

"Shut up, Barry," Jennifer snapped, punching his arm with deadly aim. Barry pretended to be bowled over, groaning in mock pain.

"Hey guys," Danny couldn't help grinning at the show.

"Where's your date, sugar?" Jennifer asked, sliding into Tucker and Eleanor's recently vacated spot across from him. "Don't tell me Casper's Most Eligible is all alone?"

Danny snickered, feeling oddly flattered at the attention Jennifer never failed to lavish upon him. Barry seemed completely secure in his girlfriend's flirtatious ways, for he immediately grabbed a spoon and began digging into her ice cream sundae. Jennifer nudged at him, and he stuck his tongue out before dotting the tip of her nose with vanilla.

Danny watched them, feeling content, amused and curious all at the same time. They seemed to fit so easily with one another, almost the way he was with Tucker and Sam, but there was no doubt that their feelings ran deep. He wondered briefly if this was something he would ever get to experience, this camaraderie that seemed so natural to them. Perhaps he could have had that with Sam, but things were so different now – it felt like a lifetime ago since he had entertained thoughts about her in that way, and that day in which they had confronted their feelings, that day in which she chose Winston over him – that day burned bright in his memory, and yet, had now glazed over and grown hazy with time. He realized with a jolt that he couldn't properly point out when his feelings for her had faded away, turned into a relic of a time long past, but there it was; miracle of miracles, his father had been right; he'd discovered other fish in the sea, and the wound _had_ healed.

Rapping his knuckles on the tabletop, he excused himself from the table, leaving the two lovebirds squealing in delight as they tried desperately to paint each other's faces with ice cream. Now delving deep into his introspective mood, Danny walked home.

The sky had grown cloudy outside, and there was a slight chill in the air – a vast difference from the breezy weather of early afternoon, but the skinny boy hardly even noticed.

All this time he had resolutely avoiding exploring his feelings for Dash beyond the superficial level. Dash, who had always been able to invoke some sort of reaction out of him, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise; Dash, who knew how to push his buttons and rile him up; who had somehow taken all those heavy feelings and turned them into something sweltering that bore down on his shoulders yet left his feet so light. Danny closed his eyes and thought of Dash, and felt a shudder reverberate down his spine.

Once he entered his bedroom and toed off his sneakers, he tossed himself backwards on to his bed and sighed. The memory of Dash's smile called out to him, and though he had only seen the other boy little more than an hour ago, he missed him now with a terrible ache in his heart.

He lay motionless atop his bed for several moments, then frowned; it was far too dark in here. The change in weather was startling. What had once been a nice spring day had quickly turned overcast and now shrouded his room in unseasonable darkness. Danny moved to pull the curtains apart in hopes of gaining a bit more natural light, then froze, his heart stopping at the sight he saw.

The white van had remained motionless since the day it had been parked across the street from the Fenton residence; indeed, Danny had often wondered if there was anyone in there at all or if it had just been part of a clever ruse to keep his family in check; but now he was getting his answer. Danny watched with wide-eyed disbelief, peeking through the edges of his curtains, as the doors to the back of the van swung open and two burly, bald-headed agents who looked almost too big to fit inside stepped out, popping their limbs and straightening their backs before marching off together in the direction that headed into town.

In a flash, Danny turned himself intangible and floated through the barriers of the walls to trail behind them as they ambled through the streets as though they owned the place.

"…waste of time doing this, and for what? Three of our own dead, and no closer to finding an answer," one was saying.

"We have our answer. Showenhower's out there somewhere and if he ever shows his ugly mug in this town, we'll catch him."

"Oh? And what about whatever it was that got O and J over at the old Masters' place then? You can't tell me there's nothing fishy going on there – those two completely unresponsive until the very same night Belgrave was found, and here we are sitting here like ducks. I'm telling you, L – something's not right with this town. I feel it every time we come back here, except now it's getting even worse. Something's going on, but I can't figure out for the life of me what the hell it is."

The two of them continued arguing, going over topics that were familiar to Danny and yet not; they were reiterating events he already knew of, but telling them once more in their own perspective.

"So why is it that we're wasting our time with this again?" the first agent questioned.

"We're not 'wasting our time', we're honoring our fallen comrades!" L replied, agitated. "Now look, you keep your mouth shut around Agent K – he's just looking for an excuse to fight ever since O's death, and you'd better be sure Pelham will be on your back if you give him one. We're all trying to keep this operation going, so keep your head down and do what you're told."

Danny decided to break away from their path then. Their conversation was raising more questions in his mind, and that was the last thing he needed at this point; drifting back to his home, he turned corporeal once more and snatched up his cellphone, quickly typing up a message to Tucker and Sam.

_Come over right now – 911._

* * *

When they arrived at his doorstep, Danny was quick to usher Tucker and Sam into his room and fill them in on all the details.

"So they both just got out and left?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"That's what I'm saying," Danny confirmed grimly.

"But you didn't even know they were in there in the first place, and they've been staked outside your place for weeks," Tucker pointed out. "Why would they suddenly just up and leave?"

_We're not 'wasting our time', we're honoring our fallen comrades_, Agent L's voice boomed in his ears. "I think," Danny said slowly, "that the reason they left so suddenly is because they were called somewhere. One of them said something about honoring their fallen – I think he means the two agents who passed away in Amity General."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means they're having a memorial," Danny said decisively. "They're all leaving their stations right now to meet somewhere and honor their dead. Whatever it is they're doing, it means we've finally got the chance we've been waiting for. The van is free, and we can finally take a look at what's going on in there."

"So this is it," Sam echoed nervously. "We're finally going to do it – we're finally going to break into the van?"

"If you still want to," Danny suddenly felt jittery inside. He had been contemplating this for so long, it was hard to believe that it was merely a fluke that this chance had been granted instead of any careful strategizing on their parts.

"We're with you, dude!" Tucker said bravely, but Danny could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He was scared too.

"It's probably nothing," Sam assured, linking her arm with Danny's. "After all this time we've spent psyching ourselves up for it, it's probably going to be another dead end."

"Probably," Danny let out a tense laugh. Steeling himself, he turned intangible once more, this time taking Sam and Tucker through the wall with him until the three of them stood before the white van.

This was it.

Stealing a great big gulp of air, Danny pushed himself forward past the barrier and stepped into the carriage.

The three of them separated, turning tangible once more as they took in their new surroundings. It was incredible; the inside of the van was nothing like what Danny had ever seen before, and bore no resemblance to the barren truck in which he had been shoved into when they'd carted him off to the police station for his interrogation. Instead, this van was lined from one end to the next with dozens of monitors that displayed sharp black and white images – images of FentonWorks and the other houses on the block, of busy roads and deserted streets, and kept flashing to various other areas within a ten-mile radius.

"Wow," Tucker gaped, taking in the sight. He was practically drooling as he sidled up to one wall of monitors. Sam began to concern herself with studying the flashing green buttons all around her that kept emitting beeping noises. "Dude," Tucker said in a reverent tone, fingering an etching on one of the walls that bore an inscription, "this says Photoron 190-X – do you _know_ what that means?"

"No," Danny said truthfully.

"That's one of the fastest cameras in the world!" Tucker gushed excitedly. "It's got a framerate of … I don't even _know_ how fast the framerate goes, that's how good it is!"

"So there are pictures?" Danny asked.

"Probably, unless they're sticking with video feed," Tucker confirmed. "But then, you don't just buy a Photoron 109-X for just _video_; there _has_ to be some snaps they've taken." He began rummaging around the small compartments that lined the vehicle.

"Careful, Tuck," Sam warned. "We can't afford to have the Guys in White suspect that we were snooping around in here."

Danny pressed himself up close to the monitors, squinting as he tried to discern the little details of the scenes he was seeing; there wasn't much – he could see his bedroom, along with Jazz's, and just the tip of the gigantic blimp that rested on top of the building; he let out a small sigh of relief knowing his family's privacy wasn't being too badly infringed upon.

There was a loud clatter and followed by an even louder bang. Danny gritted his teeth sympathetically while Sam hollered, _"Tuck!"_

"Sorry – sorry," Tucker apologized meekly, rushing to pick up whatever it was that he had dropped.

"You found pictures?" Danny asked eagerly.

"Er, yeah," Tucker replied. "Hang on, let me just look for some more, I'm sure they must have…" Danny permitted him to go back to rooting around as he returned his attention to scanning the video monitors. How was it that these guys were able to stare at these tiny screens day in and day out? As his eyes drifted from one monitor to the next, he felt his vision shift out of focus.

Tucker cleared his throat, bringing him back to reality. "Uh, Danny," he said weakly, "I think you might want to come take a look at this."

Pushing himself away from the rows of monitors, Danny and Sam went over to see what Tucker had found. Silently, he handed over a glossy black-and-white photograph for Danny's inspection. Danny's eyes roamed over it, and he frowned in confusion. "It's Kwan."

The picture was indeed of Kwan, with his back facing the camera, and only a little bit of his profile visible to the viewer. Of what Danny could see, the Asian boy looked weary but determined, posing outside the Fenton residence with his arm poised upwards and in the midst of snapping his finger. Danny turned perplexed eyes to Tucker. "What's Kwan doing outside my house?"

"I don't know, but look at this one," Tucker passed over another photograph for Danny to see. Sam peered over his shoulder to have a look. Danny frowned as he looked it over. Like the previous picture, this too featured a shot of the Fenton residence, but with one very obvious difference; this picture did not feature Kwan, and provided an unobstructed view of the Fenton household. Danny turned back to Tucker, still not comprehending what he was trying to say.

"Check the timestamp," Tucker instructed, nodding at the picture in his hand. Danny turned back to the photographs, scouring the surface until he found what he wanted. The number at the bottom read 05:24:19. "Now check the other one." Danny held up the previous photograph, and his frown deepened. This one, the image with Kwan on it, read 05:24:18.

"What…?" Danny started to say, but then Tucker pulled the photographs out of his grip.

"Let me paint you a little picture," he stated, heaving up a whole stack of photographs that he'd found hidden in one of the compartments, the tip of his tongue poking out as he spread them out and began to arrange them in sequence one by one. When he was finished, he stepped back and allowed Danny and Sam to move forward to take in his work. A chill began to crawl up Danny's skin as he stared grimly at the pictures laid out for him to see.

"You wondered if whether Kwan might still be possessed by a ghost after he woke up in the hospital," Tucker rasped behind him. "I guess now you have your answer."

Danny found himself unable to reply as he silently took in the images Tucker had splayed out in sequence for him. He had wondered if it was possible, and now here was the answer right before his very eyes.

The pictures laid out in front of him only extended through the space of several seconds, but the story they told was immeasurable. In those few seconds, Danny watched as Kwan strolled casually into frame before turning to face the Fenton household, raising his arm to snap his fingers, and suddenly vanish into thin air, never to be seen again.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note: **Not even gonna lie, I totally got goosebumps writing the ending of this chapter, but that's because I could envision it perfectly in my head. I hope that my descriptions were vivid enough so that you guys could too.

I'm sorry about the long wait in between the last chapter and this one, I knew it would happen so that's why I was rushing to get to the Danny/Dash reunion before taking a break, because I knew that would be the best place for a short hiatus. Now that my exams are over, I'll be able to post more frequently. And, assuming I passed all my subjects this term, I will have finally received (one of) my degrees in Financial Planning, so yes, maybe someday down the line we shall meet each other in real life and I can advise you on such exciting topics as wealth creation, tax minimization, direct investments, managed funds, insurance policies, retirement income streams, will/estate planning and the whole she-bang!

On another note, I have to say, I'm not a fan of OCs because they have always been my weak point in fic writing, but I think I really, _really_ like Jennifer and Barry. If I ever do write my own book, I think I'm going to try and incorporate them somehow, because I think I really love this dynamic these two have. Honestly speaking, if any of you would like to give me some constructive feedback on my OCs, I would really appreciate it, because I'm really not experienced at all in creating original characters, so I'd love the chance to improve on that aspect.

Thanks for reading everybody, and I'll see you next chapter!


	42. Every Heart That Whispers To The Stars

Samantha Manson gnawed at her lip nervously as she fixed her eyes on the ever-darkening clouds that gathered against the pale white sky. A storm was brewing over Amity Park.

It was hard to believe that only a few short hours ago, she had woken up to a beautiful spring day, feeling unexpectedly refreshed after dancing the night away with all of her schoolmates at the Amity Park Welcome next to her date to the Prom.

Winston was unlike anyone she had ever known before; he was cheerful, bright, lively in a way that should have grated on her very nerves, yet only raised her spirits when she found herself in her presence. He was everything she should have hated, but somehow, he seemed to seep into black tar that was her life and balanced it out with his special brand of optimistic hope. And hope was a rare commodity growing up in a town like this.

No, they were not official; up until that night, Sam hadn't been sure she was looking for anything to call her own. Her parents didn't understand it, but they were relieved; their daughter was far too young to settle down, but at the same time they had expressed interest in the idea of Sam having someone special in her life – someone with a future ahead of him, someone who could protect her.

Danny could protect her. Her parents hadn't understood that either. But it didn't matter anymore, as far as they were concerned. Their daughter had reached the home stretch; she was going to graduate high school, and leave town to go to college, somewhere far, far away where Danny Fenton could never drag her down again.

She clenched her jaw at the thought. Sam had always loathed the way her parents talked about the Fentons, the way they looked down on them with the ease of superiority. How they had cooed over them both when Winston arrived to take her to the party, and she could see the relief shining in their eyes and read the thoughts that echoed in their heads. _Well, we might barely know him, but at least he's not Danny Fenton._

Danny. It was hard to think of him now without her heart squeezing out a little dose of sympathy and guilt. Danny had been strangely silent about what plans he had in mind after high school, which alarmed her sometimes into believing that he had no plans lined up at all. But every time she questioned him, he seemed to have some vague notion ready: stay in Amity Park, go to college, keep going on his path here. Which was why it was easy for her to shrug away her concern; Danny had a path, after all; he knew what he was going to do with his life, and however unfair it seemed to her, there was little she could do about it. Danny seemed to have accepted his calling in life, and he didn't seem inclined to give it up any time soon, and the truth of the matter was, Sam didn't see how he _could_ give it up even if he wanted to. Amity Park needed Danny Phantom, and nothing was going to change that.

_Something good is going to happen, Danny, you'll see. Things are going to change. I can feel it._ Samantha sighed. It had been so easy to believe it the night she said those words. Prom Night had left them feeling like they were on the precipice of greatness, that, with just a few more steps, they would achieve everything they ever wanted. How could she have been so wrong? Now, staring up at the rumbling thunderclouds, she felt as though she had woken from a dream, a brief respite, only to find herself back where she had always been – in the dreary town of Amity Park. Perhaps change was coming, it was true, but now in the cold harsh light of day, she felt like a fool to ever believe that it could bring with it something good.

The door creaked open, pulling her out of her ruminations, and she turned away from the sight of the gathering clouds through the large picture window to find Tucker shuffling in.

"He's taking a shower," Tucker reported in response to Sam's questioning gaze. "I think he just wants to be alone for a while."

Sam nodded and turned her attention back out the window. The three friends were currently holed up in the Manson's palatial estate, as they had been all afternoon following the discovery they'd made in the nondescript van earlier that day. It was the only place Danny could feel safe.

"Do you think they're watching you?" Danny had asked when she suggested they spend the day at her house.

"No," she had answered confidently. "But even if they are, they'd have to get through an electric fence, guard dogs, and more security cameras than I can even count. Not to mention the snootiest housekeepers in all of Amity Park."

Danny had reluctantly agreed, but even on the way over, Tucker and Sam had been able to sense his distress. When this happened, Danny either wanted to talk it out with them until his feelings made sense, or, alternatively, keep it all bottled up until he was practically bursting. This was a case for the latter, it seemed, and so Sam and Tucker had left well enough alone.

"You brought these with you?" Tucker asked with surprise, picking up the stack of photographs he found on the desk.

"What are they going to do, ask us to give them back?" Sam shot derisively. Tucker tilted his head in agreement, and flopped onto her bed without taking his eyes off the photograph in his hand.

"So what do you think of this?" he asked eventually, still studying the image with a furrowed brow. "Because I gotta tell you, I'm completely lost on this one."

"Kwan disappearing into thin air is definitely evidence that something's wrong," Sam stated, moving over to pick up a photograph for herself as well. "Danny sounded so sure that he wasn't being possessed when he went to check at the hospital. How could he have missed something like this?"

"Danny said his powers were acting whack lately. He couldn't detect Spectra, and she was at that hospital the whole time too," Tucker pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's different," Sam shook her head, still pacing about the room. "Spectra was _trying_ to hide from him though; Kwan was unconscious. It's not the same."

"Okay," Tucker amended. "So maybe Spectra blocked his powers somehow when she was trying to avoid being noticed; or maybe the ghost inside Kwan was unconscious at the time too, so Danny couldn't feel it; or…" Tucker's eyes brightened when he remembered something, "_or maybe_ it's because Danny just wasn't able to sense him in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Sam frowned.

Tucker jumped to his feet in excitement. "Don't you remember?" he said, "When Danny first found out that Kwan was being possessed by a ghost, he was beating himself up over it for not realizing it sooner, and what was the reason that he didn't realize it sooner? Because he _couldn't sense it!_"

"Tucker, you're talking really fast," Sam tried to calm the overly-excited boy down. "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying Kwan's been possessed this whole time and we never realized it!" Tucker burst out. "Remember that day Danny freaked out at the mall and then he showed up at your place saying that Kwan was a ghost? He said he didn't realize it before because it had somehow _blocked_ his ghost sense. Every time Kwan was around him, Danny couldn't sense a ghost nearby, and that's what finally tipped him off, remember?"

Yes, Sam remembered. She distinctly remembered the night Danny had showed up at her house, sweaty and panting and desperate to talk to her, and how he had started rambling all those crazy things about Kwan being possessed by a ghost that wanted to protect him.

"_So,"_ Tucker drawled out, "that explains everything – Danny couldn't sense Spectra at the hospital because he only went there to visit Kwan, who was still blocking his ghost powers, and Danny couldn't sense the ghost when he overshadowed Kwan because, I dunno, the ghost was unconscious or something. But it all fits!"

"It's a nice story, Tuck," a gruff voice saved Sam from having to respond, "but it's reaching a little too far for comfort."

Sam straightened her posture as Danny entered the room, toweling his hair which was still damp from his recent shower.

"Well, what's wrong with it?" Tucker demanded, clearly attached to the idea that he had solved the mystery that had eluded them so. "It all fits, doesn't it?"

"It does seem to cover all the bases, Danny," Sam said uncertainly, unable to find a flaw in the logic.

Danny shook his head and sat heavily down on the couch. "The pieces all fit, sure, but they're in the wrong order," he said, taking one of photographs out of the stack and studying it intently. "It doesn't explain why I couldn't feel Tyrant inside of Kwan when I went inside him. It doesn't explain how I saw him kiss his mom on the cheek before heading to school. It doesn't explain his behavior when he's with Star."

There was a moment of silence as his words sank in. Danny thumbed the picture of Kwan snapping his fingers in the air absent-mindedly. No, this did not explain any of that, but it did shed light on one thing however. The day he witnessed Poindexter ascend to Heaven, the translucent ghost had told him Kwan had been crying ever since the Guys in White had brought him back to school. Danny had no doubt that this was the reason why. Whatever was going on with the Asian jock, one thing was clear: the Guys in White were aware of it, and that terrified Kwan.

* * *

Danny balked at the suggestion that he stay over for the night, citing a desire not to offend her parents, but Sam waved off his concerns as ridiculous. She had spent the night at the Fenton residence plenty of times, and it was only fair that she got to return the favor.

"You can sleep in the west wing if makes you feel so uncomfortable," she announced as she led him through the seemingly endless hallway. "No one will bother you there. My parents haven't been here since the house was built."

Taking the third right, she led him through the handsome mahogany doors that led to the guest apartment, unable to help the small smile that curved her lips when he took in the décor with wonderment apparent in his eyes.

"You rich people are so ridiculous," he said, running a finger along the surface of a polished vanity table. "How many living rooms do you need?"

Sam shrugged. "It's excessive, sure, but it has its uses. It made for a great hiding place when I was younger and my parents tried to get me to dress up for dinner. My mom was in love with all those old black-and-white movies where they would wear ballgowns to the table."

Danny settled on the plush pink couch, wiggling his butt in order to get comfortable. "You're sure this is okay?" he asked cautiously again.

"Of course," Sam said breezily. Truth be told, it was easy to get lonely in a house like this, and she welcomed the company whenever she could. "Just call your parents and tell them you'll be staying over tonight. Dinner should be ready soon. Tuck's raiding the fridge, and he's going to put all those home-ec classes to good use."

"Okay," Danny nodded, then after a pause, added warmly, "Thanks, Sam."

For some reason, seeing her friend now, hunched over and worried, raised a lump in Sam's throat. "Don't mention it, Danny," she said quietly, then shut the doors and left him in peace.

All the signs that they had been keeping track of, all the changes that had occurred in their little town, had so far only sounded the alarm in their heads that something was off. Up to this point, no matter what had occurred, they thought they had had a handle on it. When the ghosts attacked, they were there to beat it back into the Ghost Zone; when Kwan was possessed, Danny was right on the case, tracking the clues they were too blind to see and interrogating the ghost that had overshadowed their classmate; when Walker had betrayed their truce in order to claim the Plasmius soul, there was Danny, when the Guys in White established their presence, they all worked together to maintain a low profile and keep a lookout to make sure they didn't get away with anything. They thought they'd had a handle on things. This, however, changed everything. Something had been going on underneath the surface, something that had escaped their attention entirely, and now things were very rapidly spinning out of control. Who knew what Kwan was up to, operating all these weeks without their knowledge?

Her dark thoughts were interrupted when she made her way into the kitchen where she found, to immense surprise, Tucker hollering for help as he tried valiantly to keep the large blender from tipping over with the force with which it minced the various ingredients the boy had put inside. She rushed forward to help, tipping the large appliance back onto its perch and unplugging it so that it wouldn't bounce forward again.

Tucker was perspiring and his breath came out in heavy puffs. Sam watched this display bemusedly. "You're pathetic," she said flatly.

"Like I said," Tucker replied nonchalantly, brushing the imaginary lint off his shoulder, "I'm really more of the tech guy." He gave the oversized blender a mistrustful look. "What kind of an industrial nightmare is that, anyway? It could have devoured me alive!"

"It's just a blender," Sam rolled her eyes. "I thought you were taking cooking classes at school?"

"Sure, using normal-sized kitchen appliances," Tucker responded, gesturing to the blender that had sought to kill him moments ago. "Not … _that._"

Sam observed the pool of sludge that dripped from the edges of the container. "Well, at least you managed to keep the lid on," she acquiesced. "What are you making?"

"I was actually about to make my specialty," Tucker bragged.

"Which is?" Sam prompted.

"Curry."

Sam lifted her eyebrow, definitely amused now. "You know how to make curry."

"Sure I do," Tucker chided. "That exchange student from India taught me how. What was his name?"

"Arjun Tahir," Sam reminded. "Alright, go ahead. I hope you know what you're doing."

"Where are you going?" Tucker inquired as he began dicing up onions, the blade meeting the chopping board with practiced ease.

"Just going to check on my grandmother, see if she's feeling hungry," Sam said. "Don't make the food too spicy, Tuck – she won't be able to handle it."

"Shows how much you know, Sam. Haven't you heard that Indian food has all these restorative properties? Your grandmother will be up and tossing that wheelchair into the pool in no time," Tucker dismissed. Sam rolled her eyes, but didn't bother to argue the point.

The east wing of the mansion was considerably more cheerful than the guest quarters. The fancy lamps that hung from the ceiling above were constantly in use, bathing the hallway a welcoming hue. Her parents had saved their favorite pieces of décor for this side, allowing it to feel richer and more lived in at the same time.

Sam had never been a fan.

Pausing outside a plain white door, she knocked and busied herself turning away a framed picture on the vanity table of her as a young girl posing sourly with her parents in contrast to their forced grins. "Come in," a feeble voice sounded from the other side. Sam turned the gold-plated door knob and walked in to the darkened room.

"Oh, Sammy dear!" the voice was considerably more warm upon the sight of her. "Come in, come in."

"Hi, grandma," Sam injected a considerable amount of cheeriness into her tone as she crossed the room to press a kiss on her grandmother's forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Just fine, dear," she eschewed. "Is that nice young man who came to pick you up last night gone?"

"He left this afternoon," Sam confirmed.

"Lovely, lovely." Long white hair rolled down from the elder woman's unraveling bun as she fought to sit up. Sam refrained from reaching out to help, knowing that her grandmother prided herself on whatever small accomplishments she could make. "Now, tell me dear, is he a good dancer?"

"Er…" Sam tried to recall. "I … guess?" Now that she thought about it, they hadn't really danced together that much. Mostly she remembered hanging out with Danny – and before he arrived, both Tucker and her had been busy trying to contact him.

"Wonderful, wonderful," her grandmother clapped her hands together. "Because I've always found that when a man is good on the dancefloor, he's usually a good man all around." The statement sounded innocuous on its own, but the salacious wink the old woman sent her way was enough to make her blush.

"Grandma!"

"Oh, Samantha," she chided, "by your age, the girls in my time were already engaged and halfway to the altar." A dirty smile slowly spread its way across her face. "How do you think we got the fellas interested?"

"Yeah, well, it wasn't like that," Sam muttered, her gaze lowered. She felt a comforting pat on her wrist.

"I know, dear. You're a good girl."

Sam busied herself fluffing the pillows as her grandmother settled into her position. "Where are your parents?"

"At work, I suppose," Sam reached over to smooth over the blanket. "Money never sleeps."

There was a weak chuckle above her. "You don't sound half as indignant about it as you used to be."

Sam shrugged. "I'm not. It's just the way things are. They need to work. One day I'll have to do the same." A rueful smile overcame her. "And if I'm lucky, one day I'll be able to make as much money as they have."

Another chuckle, and a warm hand closed over Sam's. "Maybe not as _much_ money, dear."

Sam watched as her grandmother rested her arms over her torso. "And tell me, Bubelah, what about that other fellow of yours – the Fenton boy?"

"Danny?" Sam couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. "What about him?"

"I was just thinking to myself how I don't hear his name so often anymore," came the answer, with a benevolent smile. "I thought he would be the one to take you out yesterday too."

"Well—" she could have told the truth; could have told her grandmother about how she spent the Prom by Danny's side until he disappeared, how she had spent more of the day after with him rather than her date who had driven down from college just to take her to a high school party, could have told her that Danny was on the other side of the house right now, preparing to stay the night, and longer if he needed to. But then she knew she would only be making that smile bigger, only to see it dim out again when her grandmother found out that Danny wasn't her boyfriend – and she would find out, because Sam knew that there was no way she would be able to lie about something like that to her beloved grandma. "We don't really think of each other that way anymore, grandma."

Her grandmother slowly turned her head to fix her eyes on her face. "Really?"

There was a long pause, then slowly, Sam nodded.

"Well don't worry, dear," she reached her hand down to entwine her fingers with her granddaughter's. "Lots of other fish in the sea." Another wavering smile as her grip tightened. "He doesn't know what he's missing."

This time, Sam's smile truly did reach her eyes. "We decided it would be better not to go for it, grandma."

"Maybe it would be, dear, maybe it would be," the old woman said agreeably. "But he still doesn't know."

* * *

Closing the door behind her quietly, Sam padded back down the hall until she found herself in the main living room, brightly lit and cheerful. She sighed and dropped heavily onto an overstuffed armchair, toeing off her heavy black boots and wiggling her toes in relief. Exhaustion weighed down on her bones, a sudden weariness from some undue pressure. She closed her eyes, relishing the chance to turn off her thoughts and surrender to the darkness, if only for a moment.

And it was hardly a moment gone by before her attention was piqued again as she caught a whiff of some strange smell. Her brows furrowed together and she drowsily raised her head from where it rested, inhaling deeper. The smell turned acrid, prompting her eyes to fly open in alarm, and before she knew it, she had sprung to her feet and was racing in the direction of the kitchen.

A wall of smoke hit her in the face as she shoved the door open, causing Sam to cough violently as it aggravated her senses. Fanning her arms in attempt to billow the smoke away, she stumbled forward, barely able to even see ahead, until finally she felt Tucker's bony frame and grabbed him hard.

Tucker, who was apparently so intent on fixing whatever had gone wrong with his dish he hadn't even noticed her entrance, gave a terrified yelp and jumped in fright.

"What are you doing?" Sam bellowed. "I left you alone for half an hour!"

"Your kitchen has no ventilation!" Tucker yelled back accusatorily. "I've been going crazy here trying to figure out how to switch on the exhaust fan to get rid of some of this smoke, and—"

"And you couldn't open a window in the meantime?" Sam stalked over to the panel of glass that took up the majority of one wall and heaved it open so as to allow the smoke-infested kitchen a chance to breathe, her vision clearing up almost instantaneously now that the smoke had an outlet in which to escape. They both took a moment to suck in the fresh air that filled the room as the fumes departed.

"So how's the curry?" Sam ventured after a moment.

Tucker's face turned sour. "Curry's off. We're having scrambled eggs and sausages instead."

Sam's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline. "Say what?"

Tucker threw up his arms. "The curry got ruined and this was the only thing in your fridge that I knew how to make." His gaze turned suspicious. "What the hell do you people eat?"

Sam rolled her eyes and strode over to the fridge, peering inside to take in the contents. "It can't be _that_ hard. Alice cooks for all of us every night with no problems. Aren't you taking cooking class as your elective?"

"Well, it's a government-funded program, what did you expect?" Tucker said vehemently.

"Expected you to know how to make something other than curry and sausages, that's for sure," Sam muttered, pulling out a side of beef from the freezer. "How did you get through your classes all semester?"

"Um … I made it at home," Tucker's eyes darted nervously.

"Really?" Sam set the beef down on the counter and began to undo the plastic wrapping that sealed it. "But your class is almost an hour long. Weren't you required to make anything in front of the teacher?"

"Uh, yes," Tucker was visibly nervous now. "That is – I mean – I practiced at home a lot."

"But how did you know what you would be required to make beforehand?" Sam frowned.

"Uh, well … that is—"

"Tucker, what's going on?" Sam asked, definitely suspicious now.

"Alright, alright – I got a little help, okay?"

"Help?" she was completely confused now. "What do you mean, 'help'?"

"I got someone to … um … make the dishes for me."

"_What?"_ Sam's eyes widened. "Who would do that?"

"A friend."

"What friend?" Sam asked derisively. "You _have_ no friends except for us."

"That's not true," Tucker protested.

"Tucker," Sam said skeptically, "who would like you so much to risk getting caught _cheating_?"

"Well," Tucker gazed steadfastly at the floor, shuffling one leg abashedly, "it was … um, it was Eliot."

Sam blinked. "Eliot, who the hell is Eliot?"

Tucker stared at her incredulously. "Eliot – Eliot Hirsh?"

Sam's face remained blank.

Tucker rolled his eyes. "Oh for – _Gregor_!"

Sam let out a sound of dawning comprehension. Tucker shot her a disgusted look.

"Well, come on, he told me his name was Gregor! How was I supposed to know who you were talking about?"

"He's only been in Casper High for the last four years, Sam," Tucker pointed out.

Sam blinked again, nonplussed. "Has he? I don't think I've ever seen him."

"He takes good care making sure he doesn't run in to you," Tucker said flatly. "Where did you think he was all these years?"

Sam shrugged self-consciously. "I don't know, I guess I kind of assumed he moved away after that whole thing."

Tucker quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "Wow," he said. "I never knew you were so self-absorbed, Sam."

"Well, where's he been hiding all these years?" Sam shot defiantly.

"He's pretty much been in almost all our classes," Tucker informed.

"So why is he helping you cheat?"

"It's not _cheating_, it's—"

"Oh, Tucker, please," Sam cut him off. "Danny gets you to do his shop class project, you get Gregor to do your cooking – am I the only one who actually did their own work?"

"It's your fault for choosing drama," Tucker shrugged. "I would have totally let you in on it if you were in home ec."

"No you wouldn't, you would have tried to get _me_ to do your work for you instead," Sam disputed.

"Would you have?"

"No!"

"Then what are you bitching about?" Tucker cried. Sam palmed at her face in exasperation.

There was a pause between them before Tucker asked, "So what are you going to do with the beef?"

"I don't know," Sam considered, tapping her chin. "Maybe Danny knows what to do with it. He's pretty good with the whole 'self-sufficient' thing."

"Where is he anyway?" Tucker looked about, as though expecting Danny to walk through a wall and join them.

"He's probably just getting settled in his room," Sam stated. "I left him to tell his parents he was staying over. Come on, let's go see what he's up to."

They departed, leaving the slab of meat to ooze in its own juices upon the countertop. "So you don't even know how to make scrambled eggs, and you thought you could handle curry?"

"Hey, shut up!" Tucker said, letting the door swing shut behind him. "I was totally paying attention when that guy taught me. It was just the first time I tried it, that's all."

So they made their way through the long corridors, sniping at each other over every little topic with easy camaraderie.

"So what are your parents getting you for graduation?"

"Oh, I don't know, probably some cash or something. My mom always tries to get me something cute, so my dad tries to make up for it."

"Aw man, my mom's present is getting me a bank account."

"Don't you already have a separate bank account?"

"Not to their knowledge," Tucker said in a surly tone. "Now my mom is going to expect to track my cash in college and I'm going to have to split what I make between the one they have with me and the one they don't know about."

"Bad luck, Tuck," Sam breezed, stopping outside Danny's door and knocking. The two of them lingered about for a few seconds before knocking again.

"Maybe he's asleep," Tucker suggested in a hushed tone.

"I'd rather he eat something first," Sam said.

"I thought we were coming here to make _him_ cook?"

"Yeah, well, I'd rather eat at some point too," Sam retorted, already turning the doorknob. "Besides, if nothing else we can always call for pizza. Danny?"

"Man, you got another living room in here?" Tucker eyed the fancy armchairs and plasma screens. "You guys have got way too much money to burn."

"Come on, help me check the bedrooms," Sam gestured.

"Bedrooms," Tucker muttered to himself. "Plural."

The apartment-styled wing did indeed feature several bedrooms, but none of them yielded what they were after. Having called out her friend's name for the fifth time now, Sam was finding it hard to breathe.

"He must have gotten lost or something," she rationalized. "He must have tried to come and find us and he got lost."

"Yeah, maybe," Tucker said doubtfully. "Hey, has that window always been open?"

Sam's attention turned to where Tucker was pointing at. "No," she said slowly. "No one comes here except for the maids, and they always keep everything locked. But Danny doesn't need to open windows, and he wouldn't leave like that without telling us first."

Tucker gave her a skeptical look, and Sam sighed.

"Alright, he bailed," she gave in. "Let's go find him and make sure he's okay."

* * *

Danny glided resolutely through the chill air, his mind full of murky and chaotic thoughts. He had been suffocating in that room, overwhelmed by the fancy furniture that stuffed every corner. He needed some air, he needed some space – but most of all, he needed to act. Things had gotten too far out of control, and those pictures they had discovered earlier that day had jolted him out of the holiday mood he'd found himself in.

Now he was soaring halfway through town, his mind suggesting all different directions. Should he go to Kwan's house and investigate the boy? Should he follow the Guys in White and learn more about their dealings? Or should he turn back and head to the hospital for another confrontation with Spectra?

Finding himself at the crossroads, he gritted his teeth and swerved left, heading in the direction of Vlad's mansion. Blinking his eyes to readjust focus, he curled his fingers tighter and surged forward.

The Fright Knight had warned him to stay away, but Danny was assuming the Knight would not leave his guarding spot over Vlad's body in the garden as long as Danny remained in the air.

He could see the observation tower protruding out now, the highest point of Vlad's mansion, piercing the skyline.

He began to slow down as he approached the monument, coming down to a gentle glide.

The wind ruffled teasingly through his wavy white hair when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

Darting his head in alarm, Danny was forced to come to a complete halt, gaping as he spotted a something shooting through the skies.

Turning invisible at once, Danny hovered in midair and watched the figure clad in the sleek and black suit, boots and helmet zoom confidently through the skies balancing on nothing more than the little board that extended out from beneath his feet and propelled him forward. Watching the ghost hunter now, Danny felt the remnants of his old wound throbbing at the memory of their last encounter.

Keeping himself hidden, Danny started to sink down, allowing him body to deposit him soundly on the side of the road by Vlad's manor as his eyes remained steadily focused on the mysterious ghost hunter riding through the air. Apparently satisfied with the several miles that were now between him and the enemy, Danny's body relaxed enough to transform him back to its human state.

Danny hardly even noticed, , peering up through the fringes of his black hair, pressing himself against a tree to avoid detection. The hunter didn't know he was being watched.

Danny's attention was stolen away when bright lights washed over him, alerting him to the fact that a car was pulling up.

"Danny!" he heard Sam's voice as she poked through the sunroof of her father's spare Mercedes as it jerked forward under Tucker's unpracticed steering.

The tyres squealed to a stop when Tucker and Sam located him standing right before them in the glaring headlighs, cutting off the engine and throwing the doors open with no thought to the fact that they had just stopped their vehicle in the middle of the street to launch themselves at Danny.

"Thank God," Sam's voice was muffled in the crook of Danny's neck as she pressed herself into him. "We didn't know where to look, you didn't even leave a note—"

"Told you he'd be here," Tucker added in proudly.

"We're so lucky we picked the right place to check first, or else who knows what could have happened—" Sam rambled on, pulling away from Danny's frame, but clutching tightly at his white T-shirt. "What were you thinking, taking off like that? Tucker and I were just coming to get you for dinner and we didn't even know you'd _left_—"

"Dude?" Tucker said softly, noticing at once something was off about his best friend. Danny still hadn't tried to push Sam off of him and try to console her; rather, he was just standing there as if rooted to the spot, firmly resisting Sam's attempts to lead him into the car, keeping his eyes fixed in the sky. Tucker came up his other side, placing his hand on Danny's lank form while Sam's words trailed off when she realized Danny wasn't listening.

The two newcomers searched the skies, trying to pick out what it was that had Danny so enthralled, when suddenly Sam picked up on a moving object shooting by overhead, framed by the gathering clouds over Vlad's mansion, near the topmost tower that jutted out from the darkened estate/. She squinted her eyes in attempt to better discern what she was looking at. Was that … a person?

The three friends watched on as the ghost hunter rode by, unaware he was the subject of their attention, too lost in his enjoyment of cavorting the skies. "My life is falling apart, and I don't know how to make it stop," Danny blurted out, his voice raspy and unused.

Silence greeted this announcement, no one knowing what to say. So the three friends watched, and both Sam and Tucker rested their hands comfortingly on Danny's shoulders, three sets of eyes following the figure in the sky as it cut a swath through the gathering clouds.

**

* * *

Author's Note:** This was a really hard chapter to write, which is why there was such a long waiting period between this one and the last one. I actually wanted to set this chapter at school the next day, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make it happen. Finally when I turned my brain off and allowed my fingers to do the talking, this came out. I think the story really wanted a change of perspective just to get some of the other characters' voices out there instead of just Danny's, but I really enjoyed writing in Sam's POV for this one. It was a nice break from the usual, and I think it happened at a good time too.

More will be happening in the next chapter, and I'm trying to get it out ASAP! My goal is to reach 45 chapters by Christmas, which should allow me to finish the story off nicely in early 2011.

Thanks for reading everybody, and I can't wait for your reviews!


	43. So We Journey Through The Thicket

The late bell had only just rung when the three friends slid into their seats in History class that morning. There was an unnatural silence hanging over the room, leaving each student rooted upright with grim expressions on their faces, staring straight ahead with resolute dedication. No mobile phones were to been heard, and no one was even trying to take advantage of the silence by sneaking in a few more minutes sleep. Perhaps most unnerving of all, however, was the fact that every student had their textbooks out and notepads at the ready. Sam, Danny and Tucker shared uncertain glances with each other before pulling out their books and following suit. Not a sound was to be heard.

The tension in the air was broken only a few minutes later when the door swung open. The students held their breath.

There was a pause, then, a small woman bearing a clipboard scurried in and made her way to the back of the classroom where a solitary chair was situated. There was a collective sigh and the students slumped their shoulder in relief.

Only a few moments later, the door swung open once again and Mr. Lancer strode in, clutching on to a briefcase. "Let's have a quiz!" he announced. "Question one."

He set the briefcase down on the table and turned to the face the classroom. "Identify the main concerns addressed during the Hundred Days of The New Deal."

He watched the students snap out of their stupefied daze and jolt into action, scrambling to tear sheets out of their notepads and hasten to answer the question. Lancer didn't wait long, briskly unlatching the briefcase and pulling out his lectures.

"Question two," he barked without looking up. "Compare and contrast the conscription policies of the First and Second World War."

Danny gritted his teeth and tried to steady his hand while numerous facts, dates, and other unrecognizable bits of trivia he'd absorbed throughout the semester flashed in his mind. Tucker was hunched low over his desk to the right of him, his tongue poking out and his brow furrowed in concentration as he hurried to list down his answers. Danny's eyes slid over to the left where he saw Sam, her face a mask of terror and her pencil unmoving in her tight grip.

"Question three," Lancer voice rang out. "Describe the outcome of the Battle of Antietam and its relevance today."

Danny turned his attention back to the paper in front of him sharply. Unlike the rest of the students who who were furiously trying to jot their responses down as fast as possible, his own answer sheet remained steadfastly blank. Danny's mind raced; what did he know about the Battle of Antietam? It sounded foreign … European, perhaps. Or maybe Latin. Was America ever in a way with the Latin community? He thought back to the previous question. Conscription – he didn't even know what word _meant_.

"Question four—"

No time to question himself. With a mental shrug, Danny hunched his posture and began to write as fast as he could. The Battle of Antietam – it didn't sound modern, and it definitely didn't have anything to do with Vietnam from the sounds of it; the only other option he could think of was the First World War. What did he know about World War I? He knew America fought Germany then too. Who else was involved? Spain? Did the U.S. ever cross paths with Spain?

"And question five…"

Danny's head jerked up in shock. He hadn't even heard the previous question!

"List the benefits of trade policies and the effect they have on international relations between member countries."

Danny ducked his head down just in time as he felt Lancer survey the rows of students imperiously. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. Okay, trade policies … that was easy; America was in a trade policy, wasn't it? What was it called? And who were involved? China? That would be beneficial, wouldn't it? He pressed his pencil against the paper and tried to recall the lecture they'd had on the topic. What did Lancer say?

Out of the recesses of his mind, a single word drifted out. "Tariffs," he recalled Lancer mentioning. One of the benefits of entering into a trade policy was … reduced tariffs!

"Time's up!" Lancer declared. "Put your pencils down, and pass your papers along to the front of the class so that they can be collected." Before Danny could react, a hand reached over and snatched up his blank piece of paper.

"Wait!" Danny cried desperately, but silenced himself when he caught sight of Lancer swiveling his head to glare at him. There was nothing for it; Danny's shoulders slumped in disappointment, and he morosely took the sheets of paper that came floating his way and passed it along the queue.

Once the stacks of papers had been collected and all shuffling died down, Lancer stated, "The answers will be passed around the classroom in random order. While I tell you the answers, you will mark your classmate's answers, and then return your sheet to its respective owner – _quietly_," he reminded.

There was a murmur of assent as the slips of paper were distributed throughout the room. Danny was gratified to see that he wasn't the only one who had failed to answer all the questions, though Nathan did actually manage to write _something_ down. Half-listening to Lancer recite the answers, Danny found himself wondering what Dash was up to right then. While he was sitting here enduring Lancer's History quizzes, Dash was having Math on the other side of the building with Paulina and Kwan.

Danny's grip tightened around his pencil when he thought of Kwan. For so long he had been convinced the Asian boy had been innocent in all this; the tragic outcome of what could happen when you get caught in the crossfire. Now the image of him sitting in class, sitting next to Dash, pretending he was so _innocent_ – it revolted him; it _burned_ him; had him seething down to his very bones.

So entrenched in his thoughts was he that Danny didn't notice his hand begin to emit a dangerous green glow, smoldering the pencil trapped within his fingers into scant ashes, until Tucker knocked his foot against Danny's own soiled sneakers urgently. Danny whipped his head over to glare at him, only to catch Tucker's warning gaze. Realizing what he'd done, Danny blushed and swept the remaining fragments of his pencil off the table. Tucker dug into his backpack and handed another one over.

Lancer was speaking again, instructing the students to return the answer sheets they had to their respective owners. "Remain seated and simply pass it along so that it can find its way back. You know how it works. After all," a sardonic smile crossed Lancer's lips, "you've all had plenty of experience passing notes in my class before."

Panicked, Danny stared down at Nathan's sheet of paper and tried to recall the answers Lancer had provided, but drew only blanks. He stole a glance over at Nathan waiting patiently for his answers to return to his desk. Danny shrugged. Nathan would never know who his marker was. Besides, Danny reasoned as he proceeded to blindly tick off each question, Nathan was smart; his responses were probably right anyway.

He tossed the paper over to Tucker to pass along, and drummed his fingers on the table until a stack of papers came his way for him to flip through, which Danny did more to avoid Lancer's suspicion than anything else. He knew there was no point in expecting anything of his own blank answer sheet; he hadn't even written his name on it, after all.

None of the papers in his hand belonged to him though, so he passed them over to Tucker to browse through. No sooner had Danny passed along the first stack did he find another pile dropping on his desk. Sighing, he started running his fingers through this stack too.

Lancer watched the students working methodically with a disinterested expression. Keeping his face purposely blank, he said nonchalantly, "Question one."

The class froze.

"But we haven't finished yet!" Tucker protested in a shrill voice.

"Mister Foley, by this time, I believe that _you _of all people should be familiar with the concept of multi-tasking," came Lancer's icy reply. To the class, he continued, "Outline the causes that contributed to the onset of the Panic Of 1873 within the United States."

Hands flew in the air as the students scrambled to tear out new sheets of paper, their previous task of passing answers around abandoned. Danny practically shoved the pile he had been going through off his desk and racked his brain. 1873 – what was going on at the time? America had been founded some hundred years prior, he knew that much; he also knew that it was too early for World War I. So that meant that the major issue of the time had to be … the Civil War?

Danny furrowed his brow. The timeline fit well enough, but what were the causes that led to a panic? He knew that America had been divided between the Union and Confederate States. So perhaps everybody had been panicked about losing. He knew he panicked often enough over it. But which side lost? Danny chewed on his lip and tried to recall the details of the war.

"Question two."

Oh crap.

"Briefly expand upon the key points of the Louisiana Purchase."

Danny ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and tried to dig up everything he knew on the subject. Within hardly any time at all, Lancer had moved on to the next question, forcing Danny to abandon his thought processes in favor of keeping up. Finally, the bald man came to an end, and gestured for everyone to hand their answers in and repeat the cycle of marking and redistributing the results back, watching them passively for a few moments before softly stating, "Question one."

A chorus of audible groans rose in the air as the students prepared themselves for another barrage of questions. Danny watched out of the side of his eye as Sam pulled back her leg and gave Mikey, who was seated in front f her, a solid kick to the calf, prompting him to lurch forward and shoot his arm into the air. "M – Mister Lancer?"

Lancer turned bored eyes over to the whining teen. "Problem, Mister Fordham?"

"Er…" Mikey looked abashed by the sudden bout of attention the class was giving him. While Lancer's eyes challenged the boy to raise an objection, the others silently pleaded with their student representative to save them from their torment. "It's just that…" he ducked his head, "well, do you – do you think this is the best way for us to prepare for our exams next week?"

"As a matter of fact, Mister Fordham, I consider this to be a wonderful opportunity for all of you to assess your standing within this class," Lancer said airily. "Without being able to gauge your grasp of the material thus far, exactly how do you plan to prepare yourselves for your finals?"

Mikey, it appeared, had no answer prepared. Taking advantage of the boy's silence, Lancer turned his attention back on the students. "Discuss the motivations that led John Adams to seek peace with France."

And so it went for the remainder of the hour, with Lancer subjecting the class to round after round of rapid-fire questions with barely a moment for them to catch their breath. Halfway through, it became obvious that Lancer's idea of having the students mark each other's answers was no longer feasible. By the time the class came to a close, the floor was littered with scraps of paper. Danny's hand was caught in a painful cramp he feared would never fade away.

"I hope," Lancer announced over the sound of pencils falling away from exhausted grips and clattering on tabletops, "that this has been, if nothing else, an eye-opening experience of the work you have ahead of you. Good luck on your upcoming exams and I hope to see all of you at graduation." His eyes roamed the sea of faces critically before landing on Danny. "All of you."

Packing up his briefcase, Lancer pivoted, and marched out the door.

A heavy silence reigned as the class collectively took a minute to gather their senses together, unsteadily gathering their quizzes where they lay on the floor and carefully putting them away for later use.

"Well," Danny tried to sound supportive as the three of them exited the room, "at least we'll be really prepared for the questions in the exam now."

Sam snorted. "Prepared – I wouldn't be surprised if Lancer came out with completely different questions in the exam just to spite us."

Their next class was Chemistry. While a typically lackluster class – Danny had been excited for it on the first day until he realized mixing chemicals together was nowhere near as interesting as he'd hoped – the students were doing their best to pay attention, what with this being their last week of classes. Danny tried his best to keep up, but when the words on the board began ceding their way to symbols, and finally, squiggles, he tossed down his pen in favor of burying his head in his hands.

"This has been the worst," he groaned to Sam and Tucker as they drifted through the hallways after. "What do we have next?"

"Literature," Sam stated grimly. They bade goodbye to Tucker, who was due in Spanish. "How was it?" he would ask them later when they reconvened for lunch.

"I found it okay enough," Sam shrugged. "Danny, on the other hand…"

Danny speared through his porkchop viciously. "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered.

"Don't worry, Danny," Sam consoled. "They're making it seem hard on purpose in order to scare us. The exams will be fine if you spend this week studying for it. I was thinking that we could meet up at my place, the kitchen is already stocked with more food than we can manage…" she continued to ramble on, but Danny wasn't paying attention anymore. He glanced up from his tray, and his eyes automatically searched out the popular kids' table, the rowdiest one in the room. He found, to his pleasant surprise, that Dash was already watching him, biting into his sandwich and ignoring the hordes of people that surrounded him. Danny felt himself blush and straightened up his slouch. Dash deposited the remainder of his sandwich and stood up, sauntering past confidently.

"…and at night we can move on to Calculus," Sam was still talking, stopping only when Danny pushed his seat back and stood up. "Danny?"

"I'll be right back," Danny responded stiffly.

"Where's he going?" Sam questioned as she watched him walk away. Tucker merely shrugged and bit into his lunch.

The hallway was completely deserted by the time Danny rounded the corner, and he couldn't help but feel a smidgen of disappointment to find Dash was nowhere in sight. Regardless, he kept walking, certain that Dash had been signaling him to follow his lead at the lunchroom.

Danny was so preoccupied trying to spy Dash's form through the darkened windows of each classroom that he was taken by surprise when a muscular pair of arms gripped his own bony shoulders and dragged him backwards, forcing a squeak to escape his throat. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself ensconced in darkness with a warm body pressed up against him.

"Hi," Dash breathed into his ear.

Danny turned around as he felt the other boy's grip loosen, wrapping his arms around Dash and feeling Dash's arms encircle his waist. Danny angled his head and tipped forward, and their lips met in a heated kiss. Dash's hold on him tightened as they shifted, moving so that Danny found himself pressed against the wall with the other boy's fingers scrabbling underneath the hem of his shirt to caress the skin. Danny let out a contented murmur and practically melted, parting his legs enough for Dash's thigh to fit between them.

Deepening the kiss, relishing the feel of Dash's soft lips brushing against his own, Danny found his own hands fumbling to make contact with heated flesh, rubbing against the jock's fantastic muscles. When finally they broke away, both boys were panting heavily.

"Missed you," Danny whispered into the darkness.

He could see Dash's sapphire orbs burning through the haze of black, drawing closer and disappearing entirely as his lips claimed Danny's in another possessive kiss.

"Missed you too," he whispered against Danny's lips.

The two lovers remained there in their private little alcove, indulging in sweet kisses of reunion until the sound of chattering students reached their ears. Regretfully, they detached themselves against each other, trying to will their bodies to calm down. "Let's just stay here," Dash murmured, nipping at the shell of Danny's ear before dipping down to lave attention upon his neck. Danny let out a little moan and giggled from the stimulation.

"I want to," he said. "I … _really_ want to…" his words drifted off as Dash pulled him flush against him once more, bumping their jean-clad erections together.

"How are you feeling?" Danny asked suddenly. "After … Prom Night, I mean?"

"Hmm?" Dash grunted, distracted by his quest to map out every available inch of Danny's skin he could find. "I told you, Prom Night was perfect."

Danny chuckled. "Yeah, well, I know _that_ – I was talking about your … you know," he broke off, feeling suddenly shy.

Dash, in response, wiggled his rump as though to test its sensitivity. "You know," Danny could see the whites of his teeth flash in a satisfied grin, "I think it's just about ready for a repeat performance."

Danny couldn't help grinning at that either. Sometimes, he mused, Dash Baxter was just far too cute to resist. So he stayed, hardly noticing that the sounds of the hallways had ceased, hardly caring, hardly thinking, his entire world consisting only of the way Dash felt and the way Dash smelled right there in their private little alcove.

* * *

"Where were you?" Sam demanded as soon as they bell rang and they were released from classes. Tucker fell in step with them, casting curious eyes on Danny as well.

Try as he might, Danny was simply unable to dredge up any form of regret about the way the afternoon had gone. He had returned to his classes eventually, having skipped one entirely in favor of remaining with Dash, and by the time the two of them had made their way out of the small closet they'd hidden themselves away in, they had missed most of remaining period anyway.

Now, however, he was faced with the inevitable task of explaining his whereabouts. "Um…" Danny rubbed at the nape of his neck in discomfort.

"Was it that ghost attack that happened after lunch?" Tucker spoke up suddenly. "I read about it on my PDA," he explained when Sam turned to him in confusion.

"There was a ghost attack?" Sam turned wide eyes on him.

"Uh, yeah," Danny said mechanically. "Just … you know, a random thing, I guess. No big."

"You mean they weren't after Vlad's ghost half?"

"No," Danny said, then immediately regretted it. "I mean, I don't know – it couldn't speak. Just roar."

He caught Tucker's eye, giving a grateful smile. Tucker nodded in acknowledgement.

"Would you look at that?" Sam came to a sudden stop, her attention focused on something. Danny leaned over to look, and found himself looking out over the wide field where the football team was practicing. "That is so dumb. We have exams next week, and they're still making the team play?"

Tucker shrugged. "Nothing wrong with getting a little exercise – unless we're talking about me, that is."

"Yeah, but the season's not even on. It's pointless," Sam reasoned. "They should be at home studying right now. Speaking of which—" she latched on to either boy's wrists and pulled them away from the scene, "so should we."

So they headed over to Sam's house and spent the day burying their heads in their textbooks and quizzing each other on various bits of trivia. By the time they stopped for the night, Danny felt as though his brain was dangerously close to popping out of his skull. And yet, no matter how much he wanted it, no matter how much he begged for it, sleep eluded him for most of the night. He spent most of the night lying in bed staring up at the ceiling and wondering about the situation with Kwan. He'd meant to keep an eye out on the other boy, but aside from a short glimpse of him in the cafeteria, and then later on the football pitch, hadn't come across the other boy. He would have to try again tomorrow.

The holiday mood set by Prom Night had been quickly and surely dispelled, as evidenced the following morning when Danny stepped through the double doors to find the hallways crowded with students reading intensely and jotting down quick notes while waiting for class to begin. Sam was no different, so intent on her work that she didn't even look up as Danny approached. Tucker, however, appeared to be far more relaxed, browsing the Internet using his PDA.

"We'll see how far that stupid thing takes you when you fail your exams and have to give up college to work at the Nasty Burger," Sam said crossly when Danny brought it up.

Tucker merely yawned. "Chill, Sam. Finals are going to be cake; they _know_ the seniors just goof off all year. They'll make the papers easy because they can't afford to fail everyone."

"That doesn't even make sense, Tucker!" Sam exploded, finally tearing her eyes away from her notebook to glare at him. Tucker shrugged.

"It does if you think about it."

Danny's attention was called away suddenly when he spotted Kwan rounding the corner while holding hands with Star. Danny held up a hand, effectively silencing the bickering duo. "Cover for me," he instructed, leaning back casually against the row of green lockers. Sam and Tucker were immediately at his side, blocking him from sight as they pressed their bodies close together. Danny quickly turned intangible and shot through the barriers of Sam and Tucker's frames, aiming dead ahead for Kwan. Closing his eyes tight, he prepared to invade the other boy's body.

Kwan stopped dead in his tracks as Danny took a moment to fit himself comfortably in his bones. He wiggled his fingers, pleased to find Kwan's fingers wiggling in response. As his eyesight adjusted, Danny knew Kwan's own eyes must have been illuminating green.

There didn't seem to be anything suspicious – Danny tried his best to sense out a secondary presence within the body, some sign that the boy was being held hostage within his own body, but … nothing.

Danny's eyes widened when he found himself enveloped by a sudden pressure. It was as if a fishing line had hooked itself into his very core and was trying to reel him in. He let out a strangled gasp, trying to fight it, but the pressure merely grew stronger. Danny felt suffocated, as if Kwan's ribs were closing in on him and bearing down. A distressing feeling of claustrophobia overcame him, and suddenly, Danny wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

His wish was soon granted as the pressure around him grew too strong to fight, and he found himself forcibly ejected, hurtling backwards beyond muscles and tendons, and into a brightly-lit hallway once more. He landed on the linoleum floor with a jerky grunt, the force of his expulsion turning him tangible once more.

Danny shook his head to clear away the fog in his mind, and drew in a breath as Kwan rotated slowly on the spot to cast dark, impenetrable eyes on Danny where he sat. The two boys stared at each other in silence for a long moment; Star stood dumbly to the side, her hand still tangled limply in Kwan's. Sam and Tucker rushed to his side, pulling him to stand upright. Kwan watched all this with a cold, unmoving disposition.

The chatter around the immediate vicinity had died off completely. All eyes were now on their little group. Realizing this, Kwan finally broke the hold he had Danny locked in to grip Star's hand once more and stalk away. The three of them watched the couple disappear into the throng before relaxing their stance.

"What was _that_ about?" Tucker wasted no time in asking. The murmur of voices around them gradually resumed once more.

"I – I don't know," Danny stammered, shaking loose of Sam's concerned hold, as though she thought he needed to be propped up. "I was barely even in there for a minute before he – he…" Danny's voice trailed off.

"What?" Sam prompted.

Dazedly, his vision swimming, Danny finished, "I think … he forced me out."

Silence greeted this statement. The three of them stared on at the space where Kwan and Star had been standing, and Danny knew that they were each wondering the same thing. _How was it possible?_

* * *

Danny spent the remainder of the morning moving through a haze. As far as he was concerned the teachers may as well have been speaking on mute. He noticed the worried looks Sam and Tucker routinely shot his way, but they seemed to understand that he was in no mood to be coddled, and he appreciated the fact that they were trying to give him some space.

The mystery with Kwan had deepened further. Never had Danny encountered a human who was able to reject being possessed with such ferocity; it was an entirely new experience for him to have gone through. And yet, Kwan had, once again, come off as clean when Danny had tried to sense a secondary presence.

It simply didn't make sense.

"Danny."

Danny blinked out of his stupor and glanced up. Sam and Tucker were standing over him.

"Get up. Class is over."

Danny stared at them blankly, then turned his head to see the rest of the class filing out in pairs of twos and threes. A nasty snicker was heard in the background. _"Fen-turd."_

"Oh," Danny said stupidly. He got to his feet and reached to collect his books, stopping short when he noticed them lying in their unopened state. He slapped a palm to his head.

"Oh, man. Don't tell me I left them closed like that all period."

Sam and Tucker shared uneasy looks.

"Uh, yeah," Sam said. "You did."

"And I'm sorry to say," Tucker added grimly, "everybody saw."

"Oh, _God_."

"We tried to say something," Sam said uncertainly. "But the teacher kept looking your way and we didn't want to risk getting caught."

Danny shook his head miserably, and snatched up his books. "So what have we got next?" he ground out.

"Lunch."

Danny stared at them incredulously. "We've got _lunch_?"

Tucker quirked his eyebrow. "What's the matter with you? I know you zoned out during revision, but don't you at least remember walking to different classrooms?"

"No," Danny exclaimed. "Ugh – this whole thing is killing me. I can't believe we've got exams in a _week_! I'm barely functioning as it is."

"Danny, you need to get a grip," Sam scolded. "Now is not the time to freak out. You said Kwan was clean right? That's all you need to know. At least for now, you should concentrate on getting your work done."

Danny listened to her words and nodded resolutely. Sam was right – this mystery with Kwan wasn't going anywhere; if he made certain to keep an eye out, it shouldn't be too difficult to devote some time revising.

"But then, if the ghosts are attacking again…" Sam said uncertainly. "They were quiet a while back, weren't they?"

"Uh, yeah," Danny said uncertainly. It wasn't that there hadn't been any activity with ghosts whatsoever, he just hadn't been keeping them in the loop about it – he had made no mention of Poindexter after that night he had tried to verbalize what happened to Tucker; and then there was that horrible incident with Kitty…

"What happened that other day in the Ghost Zone anyway?" Sam asked, oblivious to his thoughts. "You were gone for _so long_. And you didn't want to talk about it at all afterwards."

Danny didn't answer her immediately. His mind flashed back to the evening at hand; how he had gone to Nocturne, convinced him to help, made a deal with the devil; the things he saw that night – the way this ethereal beast sewn together by the celestial beings themselves had scooped down and carried to him the souls of two men; a lifetime of despondence in exchange for an eternity of peace.

"Nothing," he whispered.

The cafeteria was bustling with a long queue already forming. Studying was hungry work it seemed. Danny himself had no appetite.

"I'll just get a soda," he informed the other two, steering off to the vending machine.

He had only just deposited his coins into the slot when a gaggle of jocks clad in letterman jackets came by his direction. Danny felt a powerful shoulder bang painfully against his, sending him stumbling back a bit. The jocks laughed as they passed by. "Good one, dude," one congratulated.

Danny turned to glare at the group, clutching at his arm. The one who had bumped into him turned to look back, his fine blond hair back, his blue eyes shining and earnest, and a fond grin on his face. Danny felt his irritation disappear and found himself returning Dash's smile. His hand, having originally intended to soothe away the sting with sharp rubbing, now instead caressed the area, tingling with warmth rather than pain now that he had seen that angelic face beaming at him.

His eyes drifted round until they landed on the sight of Tucker in the lunch line giving the group of jocks a dirty look. Danny quickly selected his drink of choice and hurried to find them a table.

By the time Sam and Tucker joined him, the popular table was already filled to quota and bustling with action as usual. Danny noted that Star sat on Paulina's right as usual, yet the two of them were strangely distant from one another. Star focused her attention mostly on Kwan, who was sitting across her doing the same. While Star nibbled at her sandwich sporadically, Kwan's food lay untouched, his entire being focused on Star's eyes; his face held only an unnerving mix of intensity and devotion.

Paulina was politely ignoring them both; in fact, she had her face turned pointedly away, paying no heed to the cheerleaders that sat on her right gossiping noisily, and angling her haughty posture to the jocks that sat to her left. Across from her was Dash. Danny had a much better view of the boy's face from his position than usual due to Paulina's angling.

"So how are things going on with you and Paulina?" Danny questioned.

"Yeah, did you send her a consolation bouquet?" Tucker asked snidely.

"I was going to get on that right after I sent one to Eleanor, actually," Sam said breezily, giving Tucker an easy smile. "I thought she'd need cheering up more."

Danny smirked. It wasn't so long ago that Sam had been chewing him out for getting close to Dash herself. Funny how the popular crowd could get you caught up in their world so easily.

His vision turned back to the popular table, and Danny found himself once again startled to find Dash staring openly at him. The blond boy had ignored his food in favor for propping his head upon his fist, staring at Danny with open adoration. Noticing that the object of his attentions had noticed him, a slow flirty smile dragged its way across Dash's lips.

Danny burst into a large grin and bowed his head to hide it away. Sam was too busy inspecting her veggie sandwich for any traces of meat to notice, but Tucker was looking his way with a puzzled expression on his face, Danny found when he looked back up. Danny quickly uncapped his soda bottle and took a long swig in order to compose himself.

They sat in silence for a long while, Tucker slowly chewing his food and Sam munching on a spare shred of lettuce. Danny clutched on to his soda bottle but drank only intermittently. His eyes hardly strayed from Dash's face. Dash was doing an admirable job of blocking out the chaos happening around him; nothing stole his attention away from blatantly tracing every bit of Danny's face with his eyes.

Finally, Dash pushed his chair back and tossed out the half-uneaten food in his tray before making his way out the cafeteria. Danny steadily counted to a hundred, then pushed his chair back too.

The hallways were, once again, distressingly deserted by the time he made it out the cafeteria under the pretense of going to the bathroom. Danny quickened his pace, retracing his steps from the previous day back to the broom closet, fumbling with the doorknob.

As soon as the door closed behind him, he was pulled into Dash's embrace. Danny was prepared for it, tilting his head and melding their mouths together, their tongues dancing and sliding with every peck.

Dash shoved Danny roughly against the wall, one hand pillowing the boy's head from contact. The concrete was cold, but it didn't matter to Danny with Dash flush against him, rubbing their waists together. Danny let out a low moan as he felt Dash give one powerful thrust, jabbing at him in just the right place.

Their fingers flew together, reaching to undo buttons and unzip trousers, fingers tangling together along the way until finally they were granted sweet relief. Almost simultaneously, their hard, dripping pricks pushed through the confines of their undone jeans to slap wetly against each other. Dash bore himself heavier on Danny, hardly giving them enough room to breathe in between the sloppy energetic rounds of kisses.

Dash's hand was sure and steady when it wrapped around Danny's shaft, giving him a row of firm, fluid tugs. Danny arched his back and pressed his pelvis up in the direction of the welcome warmth. His own fingers hastened to take hold of Dash's member, taking a moment to slide down and cup the boy's full, round balls. He gave Dash's cock a squeeze, eliciting an appreciative gasp from the blond's lips.

Dash bent at the knees, lowering his stance to get to Danny's neck, nipping at the tender flesh there. Danny gave a gurgle of pleasure and quickened his pace.

The increased stimulation on Dash's cock had a direct effect on the boy's reaction, causing him to let out a keening noise and lurch against Danny's slippery shaft, his own fingers increasing the pressure ever so slightly so that Danny was responding with grunts of his own.

Just when he thought he couldn't get much higher, Danny was subjected to the sensation of Dash's finger over the top of his cockhead, using the lube found gathering there to rapidly circle the pad of his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Danny whimpered and suckled on Dash's tongue, his hand going slack around the rigid member as he reached the point of no return. Jerking his head back and relishing the dangerous graze of Dash's teeth against his naked flesh, Danny let out a strangled cry and burst, coating his lover's hand with a copious load.

Danny sank boneless against the wall, held upright mostly thanks to Dash's arms still cradling him close. He could hear Dash give a pleased sound and place dainty kisses along his jawline. "Was it good for you?" he murmured, pressing lips softly on his earlobe.

"The best," Danny's head was still spinning. He gave Dash a dirty smile and reached once more for the still erect member. "Let me make it good for you."

He gave a couple of experimental strokes before wiggling out of Dash's hold and sinking deftly to his knees, placing one palm flat against the curve of Dash's hip to steady himself. Looking up at Dash coyly, Danny pushed his tongue out to brush at the head of Dash's quivering dick. Dash sucked in a sharp intake of breath, eyes rolling back in pleasure and anticipation. Danny swirled his tongue, getting acclimated to the still-foreign taste. Then, he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the glans.

"Motherf—" Dash burst out, giving a small shudder than ran all the way down to his calves. Danny only smiled in response.

"Danny—" Dash panted as the smaller boy darted his tongue around the head again. Danny found himself getting unexpectedly flushed at the sound of his name escaping Dash's mouth that way. He shoved forward, regaining his balance and adjusting his posture as he took even more of Dash's cock into his throat, and then, when he finally got far enough to the point he was sure he'd choke if he took anymore, Danny closed his eyes and began to _suck_.

Dash let out a long yowl up above him, throwing his head back and pressing his hands up against the low ceiling to anchor himself, and Danny felt a rush of accomplishment having gotten such a big result out of his efforts. He worked his throat muscles to pump Dash's cock for all it was worth. His head was stationary, buried in Dash's crotch, the boy's blond pubic hair prickling at his nose Before long Danny found himself competing with the need to breathe; not wanting to pull off and ruin all the work his ministrations had done, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on sucking in air without choking on the dick in his mouth.

He took in a steady breath, and instantly the musk of Dash's crotch, that powerful male scent, shot through his nostrils and perfumed his mind. Pleasantly surprised by the odor, Danny inhaled a bigger gulp, his throat working messily to allow some air to pass on through. It hit him like an aphrodisiac, and he drew himself closer to Dash, his knees sliding up the last few centimeters to close the distance between them, suddenly overtaken by the urge to try his level best to try and take in all that Dash had to offer.

Dash's fingers moved to caress the hair on Danny's head in gentle encouragement as Danny worked wildly to fit more of the blond's cock down his throat, relaxing his muscles and sliding down slowly. He reminded himself to keep stimulating Dash with his tongue, easy to ignore when consumed with the task of deep-throating for the first time, but Danny had done a lot of research on the subject over the years.

Through his lowered eyelashes, Danny noticed that Dash's balls had pulled up significantly throughout all this; the skin had become wrinkled and darker, rather than the satisfying handful Danny had found them to be earlier on. Keeping his mouth as moist and well-lubricated as possible to keep Dash's focus, Danny discreetly slipped one palm away from where it had been resting on Dash's hip to place his index finger at the base of his balls and gently, almost too gently, ran it along the thatch of skin.

That was all it took. Dash's hips thrust forward, practically embedding his cock within the soft velvet of Danny's throat, and, with a muffled cry, erupted into Danny's waiting mouth.

Danny's throat muscles worked furiously now to swallow the load as fast as it came, his tongue wiggling underneath the heavy weight of Dash's thick cock in attempt to garner a taste of the cum that was spurting down his esophagus. Dash kept his pelvis pressed against Danny's cheekbones for several long moments as he slowly weaned himself back to reality, before finally slumping backwards and sliding down against the wall behind him to join Danny in a heap upon the floor.

The two boys lay there in comfortable silence, not embraced in each others arms, but bundled close together for sheer lack of space. Danny found himself resting his head on Dash's heaving chest as they both waited to regain their breath. "That … was …" Dash started.

"Yeah," Danny finished for him, a small smile on his face.

Dash wrapped his arm around Danny's shoulders and tilted his chin up for a kiss.

When they were able to pull themselves away, they pulled themselves to their feet unsteadily, trying shakily to make themselves look more presentable – not that they could see very well; the broom closet was impenetrably dark.

"How long do you think we've been in here?" Danny asked, thinking suddenly of how they had missed two periods the previous day to make out.

"Not long," Dash said, throwing his letterman jacket back on and dusting off his black tee. "I don't think lunch is over yet."

"I hope you're right," Danny made a vain attempt to straighten out his hair. Dash turned the knob and swung the door open.

"Don't worry," he teased, "you've still got plenty of time to zone out in class under the teacher's nose."

"Oh, God," Danny bemoaned, stepping back out into the light. "Does the whole school know by now?"

Whatever Dash was going to say, Danny never got to hear it. The two of them froze when they caught sight of Tucker standing out in the hallway, his expression blank. There was a long moment of silence.

"I checked the bathrooms," Tucker said finally. "You weren't there."

When enough time passed that it became evident that Danny would have to speak, he stammered gruffly, "Tuck – Tuck, what are you doing here?"

"Sam asked me to check what was taking so long," Tucker replied flatly. "She thought something might have happened."

Danny couldn't think of what to say, so he cleared his throat emphatically to stall instead. Dash took a step forward, a threatening look on his face, but for once Tucker didn't cower. Danny reached out to stop him, their fingers brushing lightly. Dash paused.

"Paulina must be wondering where you are too," Danny said quietly. He raised his eyes to stare at Dash, who returned his solemn gaze with a troubled one. Danny's eyes said _go, I'll handle it_, so Dash skulked past Tucker's form, their arms almost scraping together menacingly. Tucker turned his attention back to Danny.

"Tucker, I—"

"Danny, what's going on?" Tucker was clearly in no mood to play games.

"Okay, let's talk somewhere else," Danny grasped on to Tucker's arm and pulled him into an empty classroom. Tucker didn't resist. Danny turned and closed the door firmly behind them.

"Are you gay?" Tucker asked.

Danny bristled, his back still facing Tucker. He felt halfway torn between hysteria and madness. Of _course_ Tucker would come right out and say it – he'd just heard his friend making some very questionable noises in a broom closet with another _boy_ – this wasn't some Lifetime movie where everybody danced around the issue.

"No." He turned to face him. "I mean, not that way – I mean…"

"No – yes – what?" Tucker repeated.

"I – I don't know."

"How can you not _know?_" Tucker demanded loudly. This wasn't the shrill voice of complaint Danny was used to hearing from his friend; Tucker's voice boomed and resonated off the walls to hang in the air even after the sound faded. "Danny, all those things I heard – what the fuck were you doing in there with _Dash?_"

Without warning, Tucker suddenly lunged at him, hands outstretched. Danny could only open his mouth in a silent yell of shock when Tucker grabbed him roughly by the scruff of his shirt. "Are you overshadowed? _Are you?_" He began shaking Danny roughly.

"Tu-u-u-u-u-ck!" Danny protested as his head wobbled up and down on his shoulders. "_Stop it_ – I am not overshadowed!" he pushed the other boy off him.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" Tucker cried. "Danny, were you having _sex_ in _school_?" his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Look – _Tucker_—" Danny snapped, "—lay off alright? It's complicated."

"Complicated – Danny, you _hate_ Dash, remember?" Tucker barked. "The guy who spent making every day of your life miserable – the guy who gave you so many bruises you stopped keeping track You might be friends with him now, but what the fuck did he do to make you have _sex_ with him?"

"_Will you shut up – _please_!"_ Danny gritted out urgently, eyes darting side to side as though expecting the entire student body to come storming in on them right there. Tucker fell silent, waiting for Danny to pick up the conversation.

"Look," Danny tried to reduce his voice to a soothing tone. "I know it's a big shock – believe me, I know—"

"How long has this been going on, Danny?" Tucker asked, having apparently changed his mind and wanted to pick up the lead again.

"I don't know, a few weeks?" Danny surmised. "Months?"

"Months," Tucker echoed. His voice was shaking with the force of barely-suppressed rage. "You started hanging out with Dash in February – _it's not even May!_"

"_This isn't how you think it is, Tucker!"_ Danny roared, completely frustrated. "Will you just _shut up and let me speak!_"

They settled into a cold silence. Both boys were glaring at each other and breathing heavily, as though having just physically sparred. Both sets of ears were reverberating from the volume of their argument. They knew they would have to keep their anger in check or risk drawing unwanted attention.

"Dash and I – we started getting close," Danny started in a wavering tone. "We didn't want anything to do with each other at first … but then things started changing. It happened around the time of Paulina's party."

"But Danny," Tucker beseeched, "you – like – _girls_, remember? What about Paulina, what about _Sam_? You can't tell me all that was a lie."

"It wasn't a lie," Danny said. "I just – if only I could put it in words." He had realized while trying that his story rang hollow when he tried to condense the rollercoaster of emotions that had led him to this point. "Dash and I – we didn't expect things to happen this way."

"So all those times that he came over to your place…" Tucker rambled. "Even those times when Sam and I stayed over? And when Jazz…?"

"_No!"_ Danny yelped. "God, _no_ – what do you take us for?"

"Danny, you were just doing it in the _broom closet_," Tucker hissed.

His eyes widened with realization. "He's the one you were with on Prom Night, wasn't he?"

Danny turned steely eyes on his friend. No matter how hard Tucker was taking it, he refused to feel regret over a single thing that had happened on Prom Night. "Yes," he said resolutely.

The fight seemed to drain out of Tucker's body suddenly; his shoulder slumped down and his rigid posture gave way.

"And Tuck," Danny knew the other boy deserved to hear this, "Dash knows."

When he raised his eyes up to look at his friend, he saw Tucker staring at him in an unfathomable mix of amazement, disbelief, terror and betrayal.

"He _knows?_" Tucker whispered. In a louder voice, he asked, "But _how?_"

"I…" Danny let out a little puff of air, feeling suddenly unprotected; "I showed him."

The shocked expression on Tucker's face faded and gave way to outrage. "You _showed_ him?" he cried, appalled. "Danny, how could you _do_ that?"

"It's nothing like that, Tucker," Danny pleaded with his friend to listen. "Dash is a good guy. I trust him."

"It's not a matter of _trust_ here, Danny!" Tucker tossed his hands into the air. "Don't you realize the danger you've put him in? Look around – the government is all over town trying to find you; Kwan found out about you, and look what happened to him!" Tucker shook his head. "How could you bring another person into this?"

"It's not the way you think," Danny said. "Tuck, if you knew what it was like with him, you would understand."

Shaking his head once again, Tucker reached down into one of the pockets of his cargo shorts and tossed something on the desk that stood between him and Danny. Danny picked it up and examined it, unfolding the glossy paper and feeling the blood drain from his face as he stared at the black-and-white photograph in his hands. It illustrated, in graphic detail, an image of him outside his house, stooping on the patio on his knees while Dash loomed over him, face scrunched in an explicit display of ecstasy. Danny felt his throat constrict.

"Wh – where did you get this?"

Tucker's stance was matter-of-fact. "I knocked over a stack of these in the van," he said. "While I was putting them back together, I found the pictures of Kwan. I kept this because I didn't … I didn't understand.

"Why else do you think I told Sam that story about a ghost fight when she asked where you went off to yesterday?" he concluded bitterly.

Danny didn't know what to say. That day had been a mistake. Emotions had been running high, he had wanted to spite these intruders and Skulker and every other ghost that had targeted him throughout this ordeal; and now he was paying the price.

"The Photoron-109x is motion-sensitive," Tucker informed him. "As soon as anything crosses its lens it starts snapping. Danny," he said incredulously, "you weren't even _trying_ to be discreet."

Danny's voice was gravelly when he tried to rasp out some response, but the words never made it far beyond his lips. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the evidence he held in his hand. The Guys in White had more of these – a _lot_ more. He crumpled the photograph into a ball and squeezed the edges in his hand tight.

Tucker was staring at him like he didn't even know him. Striding past, he pushed the door to the classroom open and walked out without a single glance back.

Danny was still rooted and holding onto the crumpled mess in his hand when the bell rang signaling the end of lunch.

* * *

Tucker didn't share any classes with them in the afternoon period that day, but it was still uncomfortable for Danny to sit next to Sam, working oblivious to him the next table over. He made sure to leave his schoolbooks open, and sporadically doodled on the paper in order to give off the impression he was paying attention by taking down notes, but he couldn't have cared less about what the teachers around him had to say.

When the final bell rung, Danny haphazardly tossed his books into his bag and walked out.

"Whoa, tiger," Sam called after him, running to catch up. "I don't think anyone even got the chance to get up from their seats before you were out."

"Sorry," Danny muttered. "Just wanted to get out of there, that's all."

"Well, don't let it get you down. Remember: just keep focused. Block out everything that doesn't need your attention right now."

"Mister Fenton?" The two of them turned around to find a short, squat woman running after them. "Mister Lancer has asked me to let you know he would like to see you in his office, Mister Fenton."

Danny shared an uneasy look with Sam.

"Go on," he encouraged. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Bidding her goodbye, he made his way down the opposite corridor to the vice-principal's office and knocked.

"Come in."

Danny twisted the knob, and slowly opened the door."

"Ah, come in Mister Fenton."

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"I was expecting you, yes. Have a seat, Mister Fenton."

Danny eyed the shabby chair placed opposite Lancer and gingerly sat down. The lights were off in Mr. Lancer's office, and the blinds on the window were down, but not shut, so sunlight patterned the wall and cast shadows. An overhead ceiling fan was rotating gently, keeping the room airy. Lancer was leaning back in his chair, hands tucked behind his head, a serene smile on his face. It was a light summer's day and Lancer was certainly enjoying himself. Danny watched him warily.

"So, it's the final week of the semester," Lancer began nonchalantly, "and I am anxious to know, Fenton, how you have found your semester so far."

"Um," Danny's mind was drawing a blank. "It's been okay, I guess."

"Mister Connor tells me you haven't been by to see him in a while."

Danny only shrugged. "I trust this means you feel that you have managed to get a handle on the issues we addressed when assigning you your Peer Support mentor."

"Who, Dash?" Danny raised, mostly as an act of defiance. Lancer only smiled.

"Yes, Dash," he amended. "He has been strangely tight-lipped regarding your case."

"Oh, good," Danny couldn't help himself from saying, "at least someone understands the meaning of confidentiality."

"Mister Fenton." The tone warned Danny to reel in the reckless attitude he was currently indulging. Lancer propped himself upright and leaned forward with a hard look in his eye. "I cleared this block of time when I could be marking papers so that I may be able to speak with you, and I only have a half-hour to do this in before I am due at the school newspaper, so if we could be frank, it would save me a lot of effort."

"Yes, sir," Danny said obediently.

"Excellent. I had a meeting with a certain teacher of yours who had the unpleasant task of informing me that you appeared to be entirely disinterested and uncommitted to your studies, and I simply must say, Mister Fenton, that at this point I find incidences like these to be nothing short of distressful," Mr. Lancer emphasized. "I'm not quite sure how else I can put it, Mister Fenton, but these exams are of the utmost importance for you. I recommend you start sorting out your priorities as soon as possible."

Danny stared at him, feeling worn beyond belief. This was quite possibly the most exhausting day of his entire life. His eyes slid over to the stack of paperwork Lancer had bundled neatly to one corner of his desk.

"How do you do it, Mister Lancer?" he asked softly. A well of emotion started prickling through the back of his eyes.

"How do you go from teaching five classes a day, to managing clubs and societies, to all the other stuff that you have to do as vice-principal?"

Lancer seemed unprepared for this new direction the lecture had taken and pulled back somewhat, allowing for more breathing room between them.

"Well," Lancer blinked, "It's simply the way things are, Fenton. Things need doing, therefore I do them. It's an outlook I've spent my entire life cultivating."

"But don't you ever feel like it gets too much?" Danny rasped. "Like – no matter what you do, anything at all, you still can't make life go the way you want it to?"

Lancer gave a quirk of his lips. "You have the benefit of seeing me only as I am now, Mister Fenton. I assure you I've had to find my pace in life just like everybody does." The determined glint returned to his eye as he inspected the forlorn young man seated in front of him. "But what was most important was that I knew that if nothing else, I could always count on myself, my grit, my determination to improve myself and to carve out my own path in life."

"But what if you _can't_?" the dark-haired boy pressed in anguish. "What if no matter how hard you try and try, you're meant only for one fate?"

"I don't believe that, Mister Fenton," Lancer said calmly. "I believe that we are all given the chances we need to make our achievements in life. No matter where you are from, no matter what you find doing, there is always room to progress forward."

"You're a fine one to say so," Danny said suddenly. He knew he ought to regret it, ought to keep his mouth civil, but Lancer had insisted on chipping away at the veneer he'd hidden himself under, and now the dam was spewing with no way to stop. "After all the times you've played favorites with the jocks – the way you always given them a free pass just because they're on the football team—" the sour images he'd embedded into his mind of how Lancer spoke quietly with Dash at the Nasty Burger, not the way a teacher does to a student, but a parent to a child, a mentor to a protégé came unbidden; Lancer had _never_ shown such personal interest in anybody else before; "—you really think you can talk about being given a chance?"

Lancer did not shrink away from the accusations. "I quite believe I do, Mister Fenton," he preached. "Do you really believe that if I were to show a higher level of regard towards one student, it would be undeserved?" That stopped Danny's ranting. "Think about it, Mister Fenton," Lancer chided, pulling himself up straighter in his chair, "you came into Casper High the very same year as Dash Baxter; had the same opportunities to make a name for yourselves, to leave an mark on this school's memory. If you do not find yourselves on equal footing now the way that you were on equal footing _then_, whose shoulders does the fault rest on?"

The middle-aged teacher rolled his chair away from the table and proceeded over to the window to raise the blinds, allowing for greater sunlight to stream through the small office. "I understand harboring regrets, Mister Fenton," he stated not unkindly. "I understand looking back on the years and wishing you had done more for yourself." He turned around to face the young student again. "That is why I believe there is always a way; if you have the desire of self-betterment, the opportunities will come along. Maybe they aren't as sizable now as they could have been," he allowed, "but the fact that they will always come along – that's what fair."

Danny didn't reply, but it was obvious that Lancer's message had sunk in; the boy's breathing had mellowed, his previously aggravated stance had cooled, and he was looking out the window where happy, chattering students were milling about having fun, with a thoughtful look on his face. They were silent for a moment longer, then Lancer reached down and scooped up his briefcase, a signal that it was time to wrap up.

"If there's nothing else, Mister Fenton," he prodded, to which Danny shook his head no, and the boy got to his feet, nodded mutely, and glided out.

* * *

Danny was still in a stupor by the time he arrived home. He undid his backpack from where it slung over his shoulder and dropped it heavily on the couch before going to the bathroom. The events of the entire day had left him feeling grimy, but when he stepped up to the sink and stared at his weary expression underneath the pale lighting, he somehow couldn't find the ability to turn on the tap and spray his face with cold water like he'd meant to.

His head felt as though it were filled with cotton; his mind felt blocked, as though he were holding the memory of today at bay, not wanting to examine them until he was ready.

Danny pushed the door to his bedroom open lethargically and plodded in, the sound of his footsteps muffled by his socks. Without thinking about it, he reached inside his cupboard to detach the secret compartment he had stalled there years ago, and pulled out a simple black box with a large button on it, bringing the container that held Vlad's ghost half close for inspection, rotating it around his palm as though it held the secrets of the world in its depths.

As he passed by his computer, he noticed that it was glowing the alert of a new notification. He had received a message while at school, and clicked to view it.

_Have you even considered the fact that he's best friends with Kwan?_

Numbly, Danny cancelled the window, and stumbled into his chair, eyes open but not seeing anything. He may have sat there maybe for a minute, maybe for an hour, but he did not rouse until he heard a banging coming from downstairs.

Curious, Danny left his seat to plod downstairs, making sure to keep the Plasmius soul back in its hiding place beforehand. The banging sound was coming from the front door, and it wasn't fading away; whoever was out there was certainly persistent. Danny clenched his fingers into a fist and turned the doorknob to swing the door open.

Dash stared down at him impassively. Both boys stood there, at the foot of the threshold, looking at each other and saying nothing.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to come see you."

"Dash, I don't know—"

"I skipped out on football practice for our game this week without even talking to Coach," Dash stated. "I had to be with you."

"You have a game this week?" Danny frowned.

"Coach insisted we hold one, we're training every day for it," Dash said blithely. "But it doesn't matter."

They had slowly been inching closer to one another as they spoke. "Tucker didn't take it well, he thinks we're being too reckless—"

"I don't care," Dash dismissed, placing his hands around Danny's waist and staring into his eyes all the more intently. "I told you before: no more games. I want to be with you."

Danny didn't have to return the words. They lips met in a searing kiss full of promise and passion. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Danny knew that camera was taking pictures of them again, but it was all irrelevant now. He pulled away from Dash, and clasped the bigger boy's fingers in his own. "Come in."

Dash took the invitation, slipping past Danny's frame to enter the living room, and Danny, sparing one last look at the nondescript white truck parked across the street, shut the door behind him.

**

* * *

**

**Author's Note:** I'm really kicking myself for not updating this fic for so long. I had it all planned out that I would be able to post three chapters within a week of each other before the year came to a close, and it all went out the window. I am going to try to get one more chapter out by Christmas Eve for you guys.

This chapter was REALLY hard to write. It's been a while since I had a chapter that focused on more than just one day, but I'm pleased with the way it came out, even if it took forever to shape. I find that in a lot of fiction, canonically straight characters are given ambivalent sexual orientations in order to make way for the slash, and while I do think it's enjoyable and a convenient way to write a fic, I admit it's not very realistic. I have tried to make Dash and Danny's relationship have a bit of a dream-like quality to Danny, a surreal occurrence that suddenly took center stage in his life before he even realized it, something that brings him pure happiness and is a bit unexplainable to him as well; Tucker's reaction, in contrast, is more reality-based, an inability to understand how a straight man could suddenly have such a fluid sexuality, a desire to want to understand but cannot because it simply doesn't make sense by the normal rules of the game. I thought it was a more interesting way to approach the issue of coming out rather than going down the homophobia route.

I'd _really_ love to get your reactions on this chapter due to all the little different things going on in it. It's a bit of a rollercoaster ride, this update. I had to go through a lot of different emotions to get it the way I wanted it, and I'd like to see how that went over. Thank you everybody, new readers and old, for sharing your thoughts with me on my art. I appreciate it more than you will ever know.


	44. To Chase This Dark Night Away

Blackened clouds were slowly creeping their way through the sky. By the time Danny wakened within Dash's hold, they were almost entirely shrouded by the dark. A glance to the clock on his table told him it was only still just about approaching six. Dash was still asleep, but Danny couldn't do more than lie back and stare at the shadows playing on the ceiling, so he got to his feet and tossed the terrycloth robe over himself and made his way to the adjoining bathroom to take a shower.

The water was blissfully warm. It was only after he stepped under the spray that Danny realized how chilly the air was. Goosebumps poked its way along his flesh only to be soothed away by the warm water. He ducked his head until his hair was sufficiently wet, then reached over and began to apply shampoo to his head.

A shower had always been Danny's poison of choice when the stress piled up; it had helped him through the trials of increased workloads, a somewhat lacking social life, and not to mention, his responsibilities as a ghostly superhero.

There was a lot to think about; now that the romantic glow that surrounded that afternoon had faded to the oncoming of night, Danny found himself bereft, facing the unyielding reality of his life. Something was wrong with Kwan; Tucker knew about his relationship with Dash; his exams were coming in less than a week; and the Guys in White had vital information about both him and Kwan.

His mind raced; the Guys in White had abducted Kwan from school and sent him back in tears. Clearly something had happened, and Danny could guess what it was: the Guys in White had tried to interrogate Kwan, attempting to solve the mystery of how he could suddenly vanish on cue, and had terrified the boy in the process. Why had they let him go then?

He reached out and turned the tap off, cutting the flow of water before drying himself off with a towel. The chilly air prickled his skin and he let out a shiver in response, quickly tossing his clothes on and hurrying back to the bedroom.

Dash was already awake by the time Danny walked out, propped up amongst the pillows and flipping through a small book in his hands. "You're a worse note-taker than me," he commented when Danny found him. "Most of these sentences just turn into gibberish towards the end."

"Yeah, well, I'm living to regret it now," Danny said matter-of-factly.

Dash chuckled and put the notebook away while Danny clambered back into bed, throwing the sheets over his body to block out the cold. "Don't worry," he said idly. "Finals aren't going to be as tough as they make it out to be."

"That's what Tucker said," Danny stated immediately. "But it's well enough for him – he's not the one who has go to school every morning and then fly around every night trying to make sure Amity Park is safe—"

He fell silent when Dash lowered himself back onto the mattress to lie down beside him and stare at him with a sincere look in his eyes. "And you've managed to do it so far. You've never failed, and you're not going to fail this either."

There was a pause, and then a slow smile curled Danny's lips. "That would so much better to hear if I'd never failed any of my classes in the past," but it was a sweet sentiment anyway.

Dash grinned, and balanced himself on his side facing Danny, propping his head upon his elbow. "Remember how, on Prom Night, you said that you weren't even planning on going for it?"

"When did I say that?" Danny frowned.

"When you were onstage, after they named you Prince," Dash supplied.

"Oh." He was reminded suddenly of the fact that he'd lost his crown somewhere along Castle's Peak where they'd had sex for the first time. "Yeah, so?"

"How do you feel about it now?"

"Best night of my life," Danny said honestly.

Dash smiled, and leaned down to give him a soft, lingering kiss.

"Well, graduation is going to be even better," he promised once they parted.

Danny stared up at him, before finding himself slowly nodding.

Dash spent the night and the two of them made sure to thoroughly enjoy each other's company, knowing that from Wednesday onwards, their lives would be far too busy to spend much time together. It recalled the early days of their relationship, when they would spend all night together in Danny's room watching movies and hanging out, back before they had become a couple. The difference now, of course, was that they spent much less time paying attention to the television and devoted more energy to passionately exploring all the secret little sensations their bodies could provide.

When they weren't indulging in their amorous activities, they lay tangled comfortably in each other's arms, talking. Danny told Dash more about what it was like being half-ghost, laughing uproariously at Dash's horrified realization that he'd spent the better part of the last four years tormenting his idol, and consoling the bigger boy that it hadn't really hurt anyway.

"After a while, it became pretty useful," he remarked. "Helped keep me on my toes. And hey, it's not like I never got back at you for it."

"Oh, yeah," Dash said suddenly. "Hey, that's totally not fair, Fenton. Talk about bad sportsmanship. That locker to the face?" he rubbed at his nose self-consciously, "That one _really _hurt."

"Oh, you don't say," Danny retorted, rubbing instinctively at his pointed nose too. "Welcome to the club."

Dash, in turn, opened up more about his side of life, anecdotes and gossip about the people in school Danny hadn't picked up on, stories about his home life, and what it was like growing up popular, yet attaching himself only to Kwan and Paulina, a mirror image of Danny's own life.

"At first she didn't want anything to do with me," Dash laughed as he reminisced. "Then when Coach put me on the tight end, she realized I was the easiest way in to the social circle, so _she_ asked _me_ out."

"What happened then?" Danny asked, his face tight from grinning so hard.

"Well," Dash recounted, "we didn't know what to say to each other; the fact that she pulled up in a stretch limo kind of killed the mood. The whole night ended up being awkward and the movie ran too long. She kept nagging me about table manners until I finally said it wasn't very polite table manners to order a three-course meal and only end up nibbling on some salad."

"Jesus, and I thought I had it bad," Danny exclaimed. "What happened then?"

"We didn't talk to each other until we got out of there and she wouldn't look at me all through the ride home," Dash smirked, picturing how ridiculous fourteen-year-old girl had looked with face painted like a clown and dressed to the hilt in a purple dress and sparkling elbow-length gloves, steadfastly ignoring him to glare out the tinted window. "Once we got back to my place, she marched me over to the door and told me that one day I would be football captain and she would head cheerleader, so if we wanted to rule the school, we'd be better off joining forces rather than make enemies of each other, so I'd get with the program and tell all my friends that we were together."

"Sounds like Paulina," Danny chuckled. "So, what's the deal between you now? Are you together or not?"

Dash shrugged. "Not really. We kept it up for a few months, and it just wasn't there. And then Danny Phantom came along and Paulina got _obsessed_. Like, no phone calls, no dating, no making out … I finally asked her one day if we were still together, and I think her exact words were, 'Hmm? Oh that, don't worry about it.'"

Danny couldn't help himself; he burst into torrents of laughter, clutching at his stomach to control the cramping. His relationship with Valerie had been lukewarm at most, but it was still more substantial than _that_. It was hard to believe that most of the student body was under the impression that Dash and Paulina were still together simply because neither of them had bothered to correct them.

They talked about Kwan too; the subject had started up when Dash began telling Danny about the game Casper High had organized for Friday night. "It's why I wasn't in class on Monday last week," Dash said as they made their way through the leftover pasta Danny had found. "Coach asked me to go down to Wilkerson High to get it set up. They're the only other school near ours that runs football practice year after the season is over like Casper does."

"Why are you having a game so close to finals anyway?" Danny couldn't prevent himself from asking. "Would anyone even go, considering we have exams on Monday?"

Dash shrugged. "Boost morale? Lancer was insistent on it. Personally, I think he came up with it because those reporters were hounding him about wasting the school's budget with year-round drills. No one else will sign up for any clubs, so they had to disband most of the sports teams and put the money towards protecting the school from ghost attacks. Or liability, depending on which way you look at it," he added as an afterthought. "Now Lancer wants to prove they made the right decision keeping football active even after the season is over because it's cheaper than starting up some other sport."

They began discussing players, mostly because Danny wanted to share something that was important in the other boy's world, the way he knew about the most important thing in Danny's world. "It's just the younger players that I have a problem with," Dash groused. "The seniors have been playing with me forever, we work like a machine – but the newer guys haven't been able to integrate themselves as well as we have. Mark's the worst one of all, I wouldn't have taken him if someone after him could have proven himself half-decent. No improvement there."

"So who has improved?" Danny asked idly.

"Kwan," Dash said unthinkingly, perking Danny's attention. "Ever since he got out of the hospital, he's been playing like a beast. His body's changed too," Danny caught a note of envy in the other boy's tone. "He's gotten leaner, more agile. And his muscles have gotten almost as big as mine!" he protested. "It must have been the hospital food or something. Or maybe it was because he was on an IV drip while he was in that coma. Substituting real food for whatever's in that fluid must have been like the ultimate detox."

Or maybe it was the result of all that obsessive working out Kwan did. Danny's mind flashed back to when he'd first found Kwan behaving strangely; he remembered seeing the boy exercise with almost superhuman determination, not allowing his body to rest, and working for hours in the gym. Of course, it turned out that it _had_ been the result of superhuman determination as Kwan had been overshadowed at the time.

"Dash, you're rambling," Danny cut off the boy's next words. He gave the jock a teasing look. "What, you think Kwan is going to steal your touchdowns?"

Dash huffed. _"No,"_ he said. "He's the running back!" he protested, as if that explained anything. "Ugh, whatever. The QB is the only position that really matters anyway, and I'm it, baby," he stated indignantly before folding his hands together and proceeding to pout.

Danny found himself in a heap of laughter again. Dash glared at him for his indiscretion, but quickly gave it up in favor of pouncing on the smaller boy and proceeding to still his squirming with a series of affectionate kisses that turned into a long, drawn-out tangle between their tongues. Dash moved down, slurping his tongue against the valley that ran along Danny's collarbone, making the raven-haired boy shiver. As the night drew on, the two boys continued to run their hands over each other, tasting tongues and nipping every available square of flesh. And as the sun rose, its rays of light washed over their naked forms, sated and slumbering.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in a stream of arduous labor. Dash's sentiments that Graduation Day would prove to be an event to remember pumped Danny's blood up. For the first time, he began to envision himself standing on that podium, accepting his diploma with his friends and family in the stands, and Dash. There were only a few scant days left, but walking into school on Wednesday with Dash in tow, Danny steeled himself against the dread that typically overwhelmed him as he entered class. The teacher had already begun writing on the board when the door swung open and Tucker rushed in, cradling his books in a haphazard pile in his arms.

Danny tried to catch his eye, but the other boy slipped into his seat and did not break his gaze at the whiteboard for the rest of the period. This continued for the rest of the day until Danny, frustrated, gave up and resolved to let it slide until Tucker came apologizing to _him_.

"Where's Tucker?" Sam questioned over lunch when she realized the seat next to hers wasn't going to be occupied anytime soon. "He's usually the first one to the cafeteria."

"I don't know," Danny grumbled, wanting her to drop it.

Sam just rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you two are fighting _again_," she said. _"Boys."_

"We're not fighting," Danny said robotically. "Just … leave it, Sam,"

So they spent the rest of their lunch period quizzing each other from their Biology textbook, lamenting on the loss of their free period that they'd be spending locked up in the library later.

Thursday wasn't any better. Danny awoke in a foul mood as a combination of his anger towards Tucker, his anxiety over the upcoming exams, and not having been able to see Dash the previous evening. The dark clouds outside only colored his mood even more, as though projecting his demeanor upon the skies.

_Game might be called off_, he texted to Dash in class while gazing out the window. _Looks like it could rain_.

It was almost ten minutes before he got a reply back. _Game's not being called off. Just talked to them. Ishiyama wants us to go all the way._

It was short, but Danny could sense Dash's frustration. The football team was not happy about having to give up their precious study time, he knew. That still didn't stop them from giving it their all, however, as Danny admired after school sitting out at the bleachers and watching them practice.

"Defense! Defense!" Dash was barking from the pitch. "Jason, get back into position. Wallace – you're center."

The players reassembled themselves to fit in their new roles. There was the kick, and the carefully-assembled formation immediately scattered, scrimmaging over the ball. Kwan was shadowing Dash, diving into place to shield the blonde boy from a tackle.

"There you are!" Danny heard Sam declare. She sat herself down next to him. "I talked to Tucker; he says he finds it easier studying alone. You cool just working with me?"

"Yeah, sure," Danny said automatically, feeling his pride twinge a little at Tucker's dismissal. He tried to brush it off. Things would change after finals were over. This was one of the things Sam was referring to when she told him to place his priorities first and everything else on the backburner.

His studying sessions weren't going too well either. Though he had started to get a grip on some of his subjects, he couldn't keep the panic from rising up whenever he thought of just _how much_ there was for his cover before the week was out.

The truth was that studying with a friend wasn't helping much at all, but Danny appreciated the company all the same. The problem was that there were so much material to go through, it was impossible for Sam and Danny to keep at the same pace. By the time the sun set, Danny was sprawled out on the floor memorizing random bits of information from one textbook before hopping over to another thick book to his right and doing the same.

"This is not a viable business model," he groaned out later that night, rubbing at his eyes piteously.

Sam was busy balancing her own books on her lap and jotting down notes to pay him any mind. "Don't study hard, Danny, study smart," she droned on in a zombie-like voice.

Danny slammed his book shut and went to make some coffee.

* * *

On Friday morning, the students were a mess. Felicia Anderson had overdosed on too much coffee and was jittering away in a corner while her friend tried to calm her down; Kyle Robson had slipped down the stairs because he was too preoccupied going through his Chemistry formulas to watch where he was going; Nathan Lester was seen tutoring his bullies through the homework he'd done for them all year in exchange for a free pass from getting beaten up.

"Just one more day," Dash said to him when they'd managed to sneak away together during lunch. "Just have to get through this game, and we can concentrate on finals, and then … it's all over."

They were in the closet again, the special place they came to get some privacy. With Tucker now hiding himself in study hall during the lunch period, it was easier now to get away from their friends after rushing through their food. The football team had been so worn out they hadn't even acknowledged Dash leaving, too busy nursing on energy drinks to wake themselves back up.

They weren't kissing, however; both of them had been rendered so tired from studying and practice alike that they couldn't muster up the energy to do more than lay in each other's arms. But to Danny, given the way the rest of the week had gone, it was enough.

"You should come," Dash murmured in his ear. "You can afford to take a couple of hours off, come see the game."

"Tempting offer," Danny muttered back. It really did sound exciting to watch the boy play; not that he hadn't seen Dash in action before, but that was back when they had been sworn enemies, and he took no pleasure in seeing the quarterback achieve victory; now the very thought of being in the stands while Dash proved his prowess filled him with a tingle of pleasure.

"Please?" he begged Sam later on their way back to class.

She cast him a disdainful look. "And _why_ would you even want to waste your time at one of those stupid lumberjack conventions? See one football game and you've seen them all."

"That's not true," Danny argued. "Football is America's pastime—"

"No it's not!" Sam interjected.

"Well, it should be because nobody watches baseball anymore," Danny rolled his eyes. "Come on, Sam! The last game of the year – the last game we'll _ever _be able to go to – they're holding it especially for us; how can you not want to go for it?"

"For the same reason we didn't want to go to the other ones!" Sam disputed. "Don't you think it's _little_ more important that we study instead?"

"We've been studying every night," Danny pointed out. "It doesn't work. Look, Lancer wouldn't approve the football team practicing every day for this game when finals are coming up if he didn't think there was some benefit to it, right? They always say exercise is good for helping you study. Maybe getting out and watching it wouldn't hurt either."

Sam still look unconvinced, so Danny added, "Look, I'm going. I'm just asking before I'm hoping you'll go with me. It'll be a lot more fun with you guys there. So take it or leave it."

This pushed Sam over the edge. "Okay, okay," she acquiesced. "I'll go. You don't have to be such a baby about it."

"Well, I actually needed a favor from you too," Danny broached as he took his seat, not taking his eyes off her. "I need you to invite Tuck."

"Why?" Sam demanded immediately. "What are you two fighting about now?"

"We're not—" Danny quickly quelled his tone when their classmates looked over, "—_we're not fighting_," he hissed defiantly.

"A likely story!" Sam rebuked loudly, clearly not concerned about the other students listening in like he was. "Fine, keep me out of it; I've got enough to focus on as it is anyway. I'll talk to him, but don't expect anything."

"Just tell him about it the way I told you," Danny said grimly. "I'm sure he won't resist if you sell it." And if he did, then Danny would simply have to take it as a sign of where and Tucker stood now. Tucker had to know that.

* * *

Friday evening, Danny was quick to abandon his attempts at concentrating in favor of examining his closet. He stood there and pondered the choices; should he go with something casual, or something that showed a little more effort? His eyes roamed through the choices until it landed upon a familiar little number, one with infrequent buttons, a shortened hem, and a revealing rip at the back. Danny shuddered at the memory of wearing that monstrosity to Paulina's party.

Finally he picked out a nice brown shirt with sleeves three-quarters of the way. He buttoned it up and flipped the collar, standing back to admire his reflection in the mirror. It looked good – a little formal, but it wasn't like he was going to be rolling around in the mud and grass like the players would.

His cellphone vibrated on his desk, stealing his attention.

_Meet you there,_ Sam said.

_Did you get Tucker?_ Danny typed back.

The answer came back only a moment later. _Yes._

His heart lightened, Danny finished getting ready and strolled downstairs to find his parents in the kitchen. "Where are you off to?" Maddie asked in surprise.

"School's having a football game," Danny informed, hopping on one foot so that he could tie his laces. "I'm meeting Sam and Tuck there."

"I don't know if you should," Maddie frowned. "Aren't your exams on Monday?"

Danny shrugged her off somewhat guiltily. "I've been studying," he excused. "Anyway, the school wouldn't have done it if they didn't think it was a good idea, right? A couple of hours can't hurt."

"If everybody else is doing it, I say go ahead," Jack declared. Maddie swatted his arm. "Oh, sweetie, a few hours can't hurt, and Danny will be home right after, won't you, Danny?" Jack turned to him and wiggled his eyebrows, as though sharing a secret.

"Uh," Danny was somewhat taken aback, but continued, "yeah – yeah I'll be right back."

"Great!" Jack chirped. "In the meantime, why don't you get that ham you've got going, and I'll find us a movie to watch – maybe _Casablanca_, hmmm?"

"Okay, I am so out of here," Danny hastened, quickly doing up his other shoe and tugging on his jacket in his eagerness to leave. "See you, have fun!" and he was out the door, trying his best not to think about what his parents had planned in his absence.

He drew his jacket absently around himself, choosing to forgo his car for the chance to walk to school and enjoy the cool night air. The clouds overhead had lessened somewhat, now coating the sky in grey. Danny blew out a puff of breath to entertain himself. On the way to the school, he spotted several cars whizzing by holding up banners cheering on Casper, and even a couple advertising Wilkerson's green and gold color scheme.

The school was jumping with activity when Danny arrived. He was honestly surprised to find so many students hanging around the corridors dressed up in red and white, sporting foam-fingers and painted skin, jeering students from the opposing school as they made their way down to the football pitch.

Sam and Tucker found him through the throng and they queued up until finding a suitable spot on the bleachers. The cheerleaders were already going strong by the time they got comfortable, teasing the crowd with enthusiastic routines and colorful ribbons.

"I brought Coke and sandwiches and chips and frankfurters and…" Sam recited as she dug through the oversized backpack she'd set down, passing the food over to Tucker, who licked his lips as he accepted the load. Danny kept his eyes out for the players, letting out a great shout as they started to run on to the field. The crowd got to their feet, stamping in unison as the Casper High players greeted their fans. Danny could see Dash stepping up and shaking hands with the captain of the Wilkerson team. Then the players took their places.

"Here comes the kick!" Tucker declared just as the ball went sailing into the air.

The game had started and Danny fell back into his seat, trailing the pigskin's movements eagerly. It was riveting really, the only reason he'd forced himself not to go for more games was because of Dash, and now that he could finally enjoy one, he found himself really getting into it.

Within twenty minutes the first touchdown was made. Danny's ears were filled with groans as the giant electronic scoreboard in the corner of the field, Lancer's pride and joy and the most expensive piece of equipment Casper High owned, flashed a victory for the invading team.

Casper was now incensed. The cheerleaders were rallying the spectators together, chanting their hearts out and leaping into the air to perform complicated twists, and mounting on each others' shoulders with practiced ease. The football players were getting more aggressive now too; Wilkerson was spurred on by their quick victory and sought to widen the gap, while Casper's players grew more determined than ever to even the score.

There was another chorus of loud groans when Wilkerson scored another touchdown. Across the pitch, the team's supporters were going wild.

"This is so embarrassing," Sam slapped a palm to her head.

"They shouldn't have made the team practice every day – they're totally worn out," Danny said disgustedly.

A linebacker came hurtling straight at Kwan, sending the other boy crashing down with brutal force. The audience let out a sympathetic grunt and hollered for Kwan to get up.

There was a call for a time-out while Kwan shakily got to his feet, and Danny saw Dash angrily motion everyone to huddle around him. He took advantage of the lull in the game to quench his thirst.

The huddle broke apart, and the game resumed. Danny watched Dash arrange himself for the next punt. The ball went sailing, shooting past him to land directly in another player's hands. Dash started clapping him on, running with him and trying to deflect the opposing team. Kwan joined in soon after, and the crowd collectively held their breath. Dash leaped forward to catch the safety by the ankles, allowing his teammate to run past and score Casper's first touchdown.

The arena exploded, the spectators jumping to their feet and letting out thunderous applause. The cheerleaders dropped their routines to hug each other giddily. Even Sam was cheering, her hands cupped over her mouth like a megaphone. The scoreboard flashed to chalk one up for the home team.

After that, Casper High was practically unstoppable. By the time the first half ended, the team was up 2-3 to Wilkerson's favor, but that changed soon enough with Casper's players maintaining their strategy even as Wilkerson sought to catch them off-guard. Casper High's student body was in an uproar, clapping rhythmically in unison to support the team. Wilkerson students jeered, but there could be no denying that Casper was catching up and steadily overtaking the game. In the final seconds, the unexpectedly exciting game stood 5-4 to Casper. The audience waited with quiet anticipation as Dash planted his feet steadily apart, and reached his foot back before delivering a powerful kick.

The players on the field stood stock still as the football took flight, rising over their heads and sailing into the air in a near-perfect arc. Spectators on both sides leaned forward, craning their necks to get the best view they cold as the ball came hurtling down, down, down, until, finally, it landed on the field and bounced once, twice, and then once more again, before coming to a stop just beyond the painted line.

There was a momentary pause, and then the scoreboard flipped 6-4, and the crowd went wild.

Tucker whooped and tossed his Coke into the air, not even caring that most of the diluted liquid came sloshing back down on him a second later; Sam was on her feet, whistling over the barrage of noise that filled the air. Danny pushed past them, racing down the steps that led from the bleachers to the pitch, wanting to meet Dash, wanting to congratulate him on landing the touchdown that won the game. It seemed the rest of the school had the same idea for the players soon found themselves mobbed by their adoring fans.

"Dash!" he called out, spotting the quarterback pulling off his helmet and revealing his mussed-up hair as he basked in the glory. "Dash!"

Dash heard his call, and gestured for Danny to come over. Danny pushed through the sea of bodies until he finally reached his boyfriend, leaping into his arms for a tight hug. "You were unbelievable!" he cried.

Dash grunted from the impact, his body still sore from the game. "Well, I try," he grinned down at Danny, who was beaming up at him in return.

It didn't matter that they were in the middle of a crowded field; didn't matter that Dash had just won the game and all eyes were on him; feeling the jock's warm fingers on his sides, Danny found himself drawing in, his grin still not fading, tilting his head to get to the right angle for their mouths to meet…

There was a whistling sound that rang through Danny's ears before a loud, sudden sound jerked him out of what he had been about to do, and the subsequent wail of shock from the crowd jolted him back to reality. He whipped his head around to find what the source of the disturbance, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the giant scoreboard at the corner of the field. The orange glowing numbers on its screen had been extinguished, and there was a notably large hairline crack that ran along the expanse of the monitor, originating from the very center of the board where something small and shapely had embedded itself onto the plasma screen. Sparks rained down on the grass, forcing bystanders to fall back to avoid being burnt. There was a moment of absolute silence, and then an amused, high-toned voice pierced the night. "He-_llooooooooooooooo, Amity Park!_"

The blank scoreboard then did something completely out of the ordinary, flickering to life and picking up a fuzzy reception as though it were an enormous television, before blinking black again and then filling its screen with the image of a man with ghastly pale skin, wild eyes, and an incorrigible grin spread over his face. He leered for the camera, boasting perfectly white teeth framed by carefully-applied red lipstick. Swatches of jewelry and more instances of makeup served to brighten up the otherwise drab coloring of the man's flesh, compounded further by what appeared to be red contact lenses that made the figure on the screen look all the more insane.

The crowd gathered at the football field slowly started to approach the giant scoreboard. Danny slipped in through brushing shoulders discreetly, his eyes mapping out the surface of the damaged scoreboard. Now that he was closer, he could see that that thing that had embedded itself flat upon the machine was what appeared to be a grinning bat, no more than several centimeters wide, plastered against the screen with cracks emanating out from it like spider-webs.

"My name is Frederic Showenhower," the man was saying on the big screen, "but you can call me Freakshow, and I am broadcasting live all over your quaint little town with a public service announcement to the civilians of Amity Park." He drew back, his grin stretching even wider if possible, and adopted a saccharine tone of sweetness. "Tired of having Uncle Sam parking the RV in _your _backyard? Tired of coming home from a long day at the office and finding a government official fingering your wife and licking her ear? Well, fear no more – because Freakshow's here! And I am going to take care of this little town's infestation problem for a special, low-rate, call-this-number-now-for-a-once-in-a-lifetime super-guaranteed offer: _free_." His maniacal grin turned all at once from exuberant to menacing. "And if anyone should get in the way of my exclusive offer, I just have to say – you have only yourself to blame."

There was no need to decipher the message; it was blatantly obvious that the veiled threat was directed at Danny Phantom. Freakshow tipped his miniscule hat to the cameras in a false mockery of politeness.

"To our friends from the security department, we thank you for your support throughout this troubling period and thank you for your _conscientious _efforts in protecting this town." The dangerous gleam had returned to Freakshow's eyes as he paraded around from the camera. "I look forward to this chance to express our gratitude in my own personal style." He shifted the camera so that it faced a large blueprint that was hanging on the wall and marked with several X's. Freakshow returned to the frame, pulling out a long thin apparatus and slapping it harshly against the hanging.

"Over here you will see a map of this little town which I have managed to get a hold of with a little cooperation from City Hall," he stated. "And over here," he moved his pointer so that it hovered directly over one of the marked X's, "are the locations to every government-issued plain vehicles truck in town. In the space of the next sixty seconds, I will unleash a destructive force over your town so powerful, it will seek out these trucks and annihilate them, along with every single person that finds themselves unfortunate enough to stand in its way. And I urge you, my boys from the Bureau," he pressed his eye against the lens, his eyeball overtaking the screen and glaring red down at the audience, "any attempt to run, hide, or escape town will only result in my coming after you. Do yourselves – and everybody else – a favor and remain at your posts, because you _will_ be found, and it will _not_ be pleasant."

Showenhower threw his arms out as though he were about to embrace the camera. "And now," he continued cheerily, "let's watch the magic happen, starting at the outer limits of Amity Park. Over to you, Lydia my _sweet…_"

Freakshow's grinning visage faded away as the transmission shifted, and instantly, the scene shifted, the camera showing a large image of a woman standing too close to the lens. Her head was as bald as Freakshow's with the exception of a mohawk of spikes that ran in the middle, and her eyes were blank and dead. The camera was obviously being balanced in her hands, if the jumpy images that flashed through the monitor were anything to go by, in contrast to Freakshow who had apparently chosen to rest his camera on a tripod. The images flickered again as Lydia adjusted her camera angle so that it pointed upwards, where the clouds loomed ominously.

For a moment, Danny did not know what to expect. Then, he and the rest of the crowd watched in horrified amazement as the clouds onscreen began to swirl, bottoming out until a large hole established itself amongst the fluffy grey puffs, and then a beam of blinding white light shot through the space created, travelling until it impacted the ground that waited to meet it. Danny watched as the beam of white energy crashed into the road leading into Amity Park, blowing apart the surrounding trees in an instant, and leaving a crater where it struck, before _moving,_ dragging its girth forward and carving a rut deep into the earth as it lurched away from its initial point-of-contact, destroying everything in its path, shattering a billboard that proclaimed '_Welcome to Amity Park – a nice place to live!_' with its force, as it dragged its way into town.

For a long moment, everyone stared blankly at the monitor, too petrified to comprehend what they were seeing. Then, Lancer hollered from somewhere in the crowd, "_The Private Memoirs And Confessions Of A Justified Sinner_ – everybody! Run!"

As if the words had broken them out of a spell, the scene dissolved into a mass of hysteria as terrified screams filled the stadium. People were running all directions, jostling Danny and nearly knocking him to the ground in the fight to get away. Danny found himself getting swept up in the horde of running feet and before he knew it, he was hopelessly separated from his friends, caught in a stampede headed for the exit. Danny felt himself lose his balance, and toppled facedown into the muddy soil. His body reacted before he could even think, forcing itself intangible just in time to miss the first foot to spear through his frame. Shaking the fog out of his brain, Danny pushed himself to his hands and knees and crawled away until the mob of bodies had thinned out.

He had only just turned tangible once more when he felt his cellphone buzz in his jeans. He pulled it out to find a text from Sam. _Where u?_

Danny jumped to his feet and frantically began searching out for a familiar face. "Danny!" he whipped his head around. "Danny!" Unable to find the source of the voice, he threw his hands up and began waving them erratically.

Sam and Tucker ran up to him, dodging through a gauntlet of screaming families. They both wore distressed looks on their faces when they reached him.

"My mom and dad will be trying to find me," he instructed, fiddling with the zipper of his coat, trying to peel it off. "Go find them and tell them I'm alright, and _don't let them get near that thing_."

"You're going to go out there?" Tucker gaped. "But didn't you hear what Freakshow said?"

"I _have_ to go," Danny stated firmly. "I need to stop whatever that thing is before anyone gets hurt."

"What can we do?" Sam jumped in.

"_Nothing,"_ Danny was adamant. "If you see that thing coming, get out of its way!"

He ran off towards the bleachers that the audience had abandoned. It was the only place safe enough for him to go ghost. He skidded to a stop underneath one of the bleachers, and shut his eyes to say a little prayer. Then, his eyelids tightened as he begun to change.

He was pulled out of his transformation, however, when he felt a strong hand cover his shoulder. "What are you doing?" Dash broke in a terrified voice. "You can't go out there!"

Danny turned around, peering through the fringes of his black hair that were sweeping into his eyes from the strong wind. "I have to," he said resolutely. "It's my duty."

"No, it's _not!_" Dash cried. "That thing we saw isn't a ghost! If you touch it, it will kill you!"

At that moment, Danny knew that any doubts he might have had about Dash, the knowledge he held about who Danny was, and his close relationship with Kwan, had evaporated into nothingness. He grasped Dash's face in his hands and pulled him into a deep kiss.

"I _will_ come back," he promised. "Whatever happens, I _will_ come back."

* * *

Dash's eyes were full of fear, and it felt as though he wasn't going to let him go, but when Danny edged away from the grip of his fingers, Dash's arms fell limp. With one last look, Danny spun himself around and took off running. "I'm – _going_ – _GHOST!_" he roared, launching himself into the air and shooting through the night as he transformed.

The main priority was the business district. During the day, many of Amity Park's citizens left their dwelling in the suburb to commute downtown where the town's biggest firms were located, along with a smattering of small businesses and high-rise apartments scattered throughout. It would be the most critical location to get hit, and once that was gone, the suburbs beyond lay open and vulnerable.

Danny switched his angle and aimed straight down for the giant apparatus that stuck above the Nasty Burger, reaching out for the metal rod that poked through the top to anchor himself down on the giant bun that lay below his feet. From this point he could see the land spread out, the distance that lay between this point and the glittering cityscape that stood in the horizon. He turned his attention south, where Castle's Point encircled the town like a barrier. That would be the endpoint – Danny would have to stop that beam of energy from destroying the town and reaching Castle's Point where it would break past the limits of Amity Park and spill over to the outside world.

Danny set his jaw and mentally traced a map for himself. Judging by how much effort it took for the pillar of white to move forward, he estimated that it would be halfway through the paths leading into town. He didn't have a lot of time. Bracing his legs for support, he shot off in the direction of the city.

Danny had crossed only halfway through when he saw it: a legion of clouds were moving through the sky and from them rained a blinding light obliterating everything that stood in its way thousands of feet below.

How was he going to stop it? Danny landed himself on a hill overlooking the edge of the business district, arrested with conflict. Dash was right – it wasn't a ghost. It was a beam of pure, white energy that would most certainly obliterate him if he ever got near it. His ghost-ray was feeble, possibly entirely useless, against it.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder.

"You gotta get me up there."

Danny whipped his head around in alarm to find himself staring at a pale man with raggedy blonde hair, a dusty leather jacket, fingerless gloves, and a pleading expression on his face. He wrenched himself away forcefully.

"You!" he yelped, disdain in his voice. "Why would I possibly help you?"

Johnny 13 glared at him evenly, hands balled into fists. "Because if you don't, that energy ray is going destroy your town and you'll only have yourself to blame. You gotta get me up there. My bike – it would just weigh me down. I gotta fight on my own. I gotta make up for what I did."

"And you think helping me now is going to get you back into the good books for whenever this 'Judgment Day' happens?" Danny said flatly. "Forget it. You don't deserve to get a clean slate."

Johnny startled him by grabbing on to the front of his jumpsuit and pulling him close. "Listen, twerp," he snarled, "I don't care about making it to Heaven or getting to meet God." A look of deep shame came over his face, and he released Danny. "I have to make up for what I did to Kitty," he finished softly.

Danny considered him silently. He needed the help, that much was certain. He still felt a spike of loathing for the man after what he'd done, but if Johnny said that he was doing this to redeem himself in her eyes, then who was he to say no?

"Okay." He didn't have the luxury of turning down a helping hand. "How can we do it?"

Johnny lifted his eyes to scan the approaching wave of clouds moving nearer to the town. "We have to get up there," he determined stoically. "Up above the clouds."

Danny turned to look where he was pointing, the space above the vortex of light that broke through. He didn't see how it would help, but it wasn't like he had any ideas of his own.

He nodded. "Okay." Sidling up behind Johnny, he wrapped his arms around the other man. "Brace yourself!" he announced, then tightened his hold before lifting into the air slowly, Johnny weighing down his front like an infant strapped on to a carrier.

They hovered in the air, getting closer and closer to the approaching storm. As he hurtled into it, Danny felt his heart bottom out and a rush of adrenaline filled his senses as he feasted his eyes on just how massive the pillar of bright, white heat truly was.

"Here we go," Danny said warningly to his accomplice. The clouds were approaching the town, and they were rushing to meet their fate. "Here we go!" He tensed his arms, feeling Johnny slip down in his arms so that he was supporting the ghost's underarms rather than hanging on to his midsection. They curved upwards, soaring up with the power radiating from the sheer force of the white wall of energy speeding through their orifices and making their bones crackle. Danny could feel the wind swirling about him as they fought against the gravitational pull of the pillar of light. Johnny slipped further in his grip. Danny gritted his teeth and hung on, shifting Johnny's weight until he found himself clinging on to Johnny's forearms rather than his armpits, his fingers surely biting painfully into Johnny's biceps as they drifted ever closer to the eye of the storm.

"Hold … on…" Danny grunted through his lips. Johnny was kicking away furiously, as though his motions would help propel them away from the unshakable force surrounding the energy beam that threatened to draw them in. Danny ignored this, focusing all his energy in rising above while trying not to graze himself or his passenger.

It was like a tornado, the swelling of the wind that whipped at him, causing his white hair to flutter about, and his skin to pinch at him like it was being tugged off from his very frame itself. Leaves, branches and debris orbited around it, caught up in its pull, until finally, unable to support themselves under the weight of the wind anymore, and sank into the vortex to disintegrate into nothing. Danny kept pulling, almost able to reach the clouds. He could see little bits of the city whenever he looked down, but his vision was mostly encompassed by the sight of Johnny 13 dangling precariously in his arms, and the whirling vortex of energy that raged along not three feet from their side. Briefly, Danny contemplated whether this was it – God's will, as the sentiment on the Rock had been believed to imply. What else could this be, this disastrous, ethereal light that shined down from the skies?

Danny's attention was diverted when he spotted, just beyond the breadth of luminescent power, a figure aiming directly for the beam of energy. He wore a helmet that hid his face, and a sleek suit of red and black, swooping over the town thanks to the metal plate that spanned from the soles of his boots and allowed him to fly. Danny watched as the mysterious ghost hunter skirted the whirlpool of energy, losing the edge of his smooth and controlled gliding once he got caught up in the force that surrounded the column of energy. Danny watched as the ghost hunter regained his composure and boosted up the power of the metal plate under his feet, jetting about until he was finally surfing the pillar of light, rotating around it as he ascended.

It was a good idea. Danny's eyes flickered back down to where his fingers were slowly but steadily losing their strength, threatening to drop Johnny until he was pulled in and engulfed by the light. Having nothing more to lose, Danny sucked in a deep breath, and curved his body, switching gears so that he was no longer struggling against the current, but gliding gently with it. As he crossed the circumference, he lifted his body once again so that he was carried upwards, instead of around, spiraling and ascending until finally, clarity disappeared and his sight was filled with wisps of grey, the city disappearing from his line of vision as they finally found themselves amongst the dark clouds.

Now that they were up here, Danny found himself at a loss again. He hadn't considered it much when Johnny had suggested it, but what could they do to stop this simply by hiding up here where the energy couldn't touch them? Now that he wasn't fighting to escape being sucked in by the unbelievable force that surrounded the great column of power, he was able to think more clearly, and couldn't see where to go from here.

But it seemed Johnny knew what he was talking about; for when they rose past the cover of clouds, it was not to meet the stars that dotted the sky, but to something else entirely. Danny felt a blaze of fury pierce through his insides when he cast him eyes upon the large green ship that sat unmoving atop the clouds; the oars poked through the sides of the vessel, flipping steadily as though she were sailing along the open sea, but rather than the ship gaining momentum, it was the clouds below them that surged forward; the masts were drawn, capitalizing on the winds as a guiding force; and onboard the vessel, Danny found as he and Johnny settled themselves back on solid ground, were a crew of ghosts with malevolent grins.

"Walker."

* * *

"Looks just about the same, doesn't it, ghost-kid?" the warden's sunken eyes were fixated on him, paying no heed to Johnny crouching in the corner trying to recover from the trauma he'd just gone through. "I had it spruced up for you, just because I was hoping you'd come and make yourself at home. It was no easy task, fixing up the holes that _boy_ made last time."

Youngblood sputtered indignantly at him. "Speak for yourself – _my_ men were the ones who actually had to do the work."

Walked ignored him too, stepping forward with his arms placed calmly behind his back. Behind him Danny could see numerous eyes glinting at him through the shadows.

"Teaming up with Freakshow, Walker?" Danny found himself saying. "Isn't that a little beneath you?"

Walker smiled. "I couldn't deny he had his merits. When he searched his way through my prison to find me, I was intrigued. The ideas needed polishing, but I could see we were after the same thing."

"Which is what?" Danny bit out. "Hide up here in your ship and let innocent people die? Why do you care about the Guys in White?"

In the back of his mind, Danny was aware that the cloud that supported them had crossed its way into town. The desire to fight quickly fought against the need to wait. Johnny was still not getting on his feet, and no doubt the mob of angry ghosts standing behind the warden was just itching to pounce.

"The government," Walker scoffed. "Whatever grudges that magician with the parlor tricks may bear against the mortal authorities is no concern of mine. His offer to draw all attention upon himself though, that provided just the right opportunity for us to strike. Technus here—", he waved his arm over to where the ghost was hovering stoically next to Bullet, who helmed the wheel, "—was gracious enough to amend certain _improvements_ to his original design." Danny's eyes were drawn to the other end of the boat, where he found a garish white ray gun had been erected and pointed downward, unleashing the destructing beam of light. It looked almost similar to how Danny remembered it that day when it had blasted Kwan out of the sky, and Tyrant had told him to search out the Rock.

"But _why_ are you doing this?" Danny snarled in frustration, trying to quell his anger long enough to keep his fists from shaking.

"It's a simple tactic of war, kid," Walker replied confidently. "Hit them before they hit you. The element of surprise is everything, and this time we won't be caught off-guard." With this, Walker turned his soulless eyes upon Johnny crouched upon the floor.

"I see you've decided to turn against us then," the ghost commented in an offhand tone. "I suppose I shouldn't have expected any better."

"Hey, screw you man," Johnny huffed defiantly, glaring up at him. "I was never a part of this. You're the one who decided to bring this down upon all of our heads."

"What do you expect to come out of all of this?" Danny demanded. "The Guys in White get their trucks blown up, Freakshow exacts his revenge, and a whole bunch of bystanders die in the process?"

"You still don't get it do you?" Walker shook his head. "I'm only here to put you humans in your place. Once we make an example of this town, the mortal world will know once and for all not to tamper with that which is beyond what they are able to comprehend. Once the world witnesses the might of our force, they will cower in the dark and tremble listening to the sky. And with that, the ghost world will finally establish itself supreme. Once your government realizes what they are up against, ghost-child," Walker stepped forward and pinned him with an empty stare, "they will succumb to our will, and this 'prophecy' that my kind lives in fear of now will pass in memory as the diving board that propelled all of ghost-kind to supremacy.

"And I, ghost-boy," Walker lowered his hands to his hips and studied Danny with his head cocked to one side, "I will be the one to lead the way. I have watched my dimension torn apart by this new terror, and now I am going to show them that the only way to overcome fear is to take _control_ of it."

The warden took a very deliberate step forward.

"Which is why I'm going to destroy you right now myself."

Danny lurched back, mindful of the fact that he was extremely close to the ship's edge.

"The beam generated the machine, as I'm sure you've guessed, is powerful enough to disintegrate everything in its path," Walker stated. "With that much power concentrated upon you at one go, not even a ghost would be able to withstand the force. So," a twisted grin distorted the skeletal features, "all we have to do is knock each other out of the ship, and we'd be done with each other forever."

Then, in a lowered growl, the warden asked, "Are you ready, ghost-kid?"

Before Danny could even register the words, the large, white apparition had taken off running, aiming straight towards him and bracing to knock him off his feet and over the threshold. Danny's eyes widened in shock, and once again his body reacted without command, turning intangible and allowing Walker to run through him with no harm done.

The warden was quick on his feet, shuddering to a stop and reaching out to grasp onto the railing for support. He whipped himself around and began charging at Danny again. Danny was caught off-guard, having just turned corporeal once more with his back turned towards the other ghost. The warden's bulk slammed against him with such brute force that he was knocked forward, landing painfully on his chin and sliding forth towards the crowd of angry ghosts watching the duel.

"Death on one side, enemies on the other," Walker taunted victoriously. "Which do you think sounds like the better option, ghost-kid?"

Danny got to his feet, his teeth clenching together, and whirled himself around. Without a single word, he raised his hand and pointed. A blast of ectoplasmic energy shot out, catching the warden right in his chest, sending him reeling. Danny reacted quickly, opting to float two feet above the air, which provided the benefits of allowing him to move faster than running did as well as keep his feet off the ground where they were vulnerable. His palms stretched out, he continued his assault with an array of blasts targeted to hit directly upon his helpless enemy, too preoccupied by getting hit to protect himself.

Danny's mistake, however, was allowing himself get too close. He hovered over his enemy, shooting directly him with greater precision, but once Walker saw his face, it gave him the strength to reach out for Danny and toss him to the side, where he went rolling until he landed next to Johnny, who was watching the proceedings with great distress.

Walker was on his feet now, directly across him, and shifting slowly to the right so that he was closer to the middle of the ship while Danny would be forced to move back to his original position towards the edge.

"Not bad, ghost-kid," Walker was saying softly. "You've always been a resourceful one."

Danny tried to keep his arms locked onto the railing as he moved away. There was a partition between the railings right at the very end of the ship that would allow him to be knocked off with no protection at all.

"But I'm afraid that you're caught between a Rock and a hard place," the white ghoul ended with a smirk. "Your only option is to give up quietly. If you had before, when we were after Vlad Plasmius' ghost half, you could have spared your town all this carnage now."

"Hey, Walker!" Johnny's voice broke through the soft lull of the ghost warden's voice. Danny turned to find the rebel with his arm raised, finger pointing out. Before anyone knew how to react, a ray of ectoplasmic energy was released from Johnny's finger, slicing through a rope that hung up several feet in the air. From his position, Danny was able to see a large wooden beam swinging around unbalanced. Walker hadn't noticed, his back turned and preventing him from realizing what had happened.

"As soon as I'm done with him, you're next, punk," Walker retorted before turning his head back to Danny. "Now, as I was saying—" Before he could utter another word, the wooden beam crashed against him solidly, turning his grim face into a comical expression of shock, as he was sent flying forward from the impact, and landed face-first in the vulnerable area between the railings at the end of the vessel. Danny jumped away, landing spry on his feet, but Walker, perhaps realizing the dangerous position he now found himself in, was on his feet before Danny could do anything more. Huffing like an angry bull, the warden lowered into himself and braced his knees, like a linebacker about to take down the opposing player.

Danny reacted blindly, bringing his hands together and creating a larger beam of green light. As it raced towards the warden, Walker took to the air.

For a second, Danny thought the ghost in white had started flying, but no, Walker jumped several feet into the air, his arms spread at his side, before doing a cartwheel ten feet above the ground and landing gracefully behind Danny to a jeering crowd.

Before Danny could turn to face his opponent, Walker was ready, sending him down to the ground with a ray of ghostly energy of his own. Danny groaned in pain as he felt his back sear from the blast, and then his eyes widened when he spotted two feed clad in white trousers running at him. A sharp burst of pain exploded through Danny's body when he felt Walker's foot slam into his chest with a powerful kick, sending him flying in an arc several feet into the air. Danny's mouth opened in a silent scream of terror as he watched the railings fly past underneath him, and then he was plunging down past the side of the ship, past the inverted image of the vessel's figurehead, before the grey wisps of the clouds filled his vision as he fell closer and closer to the vortex of pure energy raining down upon Amity Park.

Before he could go any further however, he landed painfully on his side on something sharp and cold. Metal? Danny opened his eyes to see Skulker staring back at him. "Imagine seeing you here," the hunter quipped.

"Skulker – what—" Danny cut himself off when he saw Ember flying up next to them on the right. The Box Ghost, back to his normal outfit, joined them to the left. Skulker surged ahead, leading the group until they broke past the clouds and circled over the ghostly green ship before deftly landing beside Johnny in a ring of ghosts. Danny was lowered from the cradle of Skulker's arms to find the Lunch Lady and Klemper joining them. Quickly the group huddled into wide circle, keeping their eyes trained on all fronts.

"Nicolai!" Skulker boomed, "Nicolai, stop!"

"He won't stop," Walker dismissed, stepping forward once again. His eyes narrowed as they landed on Danny's face. "Welcome to the party," he addressed the group. "Can't say we missed you."

"Never thought I'd live to see the day when Walker took orders from someone else," Ember sneered.

Walker turned bemused eyes upon her. "There was a time when you showed potential," he stated. "For all your recklessness, at least you showed courage to stand up and fight. How does it feel now, to know you will die a traitor to your kind?"

There was a loud, obnoxious cackle some somewhere in the crowd, followed by enthusiastic clapping. All eyes turned to seek out the source as the rows of ghosts parted to reveal Desiree, doubled over and snickering like she'd just heard the funniest joke ever told.

Danny rolled his eyes and looked over just in time to see Ember doing the same.

"Whatever you think you're accomplishing here, you're not," Ember refuted, clutching on to her guitar with a tight grip around the neck. "Whatever the Rock was predicting, it wasn't this. It said that something was coming for _us_, not the other way around."

"You're a fool if you don't believe that the humans wouldn't try invading our world where they are not allowed, Ember," Walker said flatly. "Already they have tried, and look what has come out of it—" he nodded over to Danny, "these half-fledgling monstrosities who tether between both lines."

"_Us_ invade _your_ world?" Danny couldn't help from saying. "Ghosts have been haunting our world since the dawn of time!"

"Your world is our world. Our world is not your world." Walker said simply.

"Except that _you're_ the one launching a full-scale attack here, lunkhead!" Ember broke through. "What do you _think_ is likely to happen? Do ya _think_ they might be interested in retaliating?" she asked sarcastically.

"By the time they do, we will be ready for them," Walker told her. "There is no power they are able to create that can destroy a ghost. This," he held his arms out wide, indicating the entire operation he had spearheaded, "is the greatest weapon ever conceived. And I'm willing to wager it will go much further in killing insolent ghosts than any mortal machinery ever could."

"You built it from mortal technology," the Box Ghost accused. "I've seen Technus flying around Axion Labs stealing equipment."

"Perhaps," Walker granted, "but could anyone in Axion Labs be capable of something as grand as this?"

"I've heard enough," Danny decided. There was no more time to waste. "I'm taking this thing down."

Immediately, the circle of ghosts pulled themselves into a fighting stance. Danny and his supporters did the same.

"I'll make my way to Nicolai. Perhaps I make him listen to reason without wasting time on a pointless fight," Skulker muttered. "Someone has to cover me."

"You do it," Ember hissed over to Danny. Her eyes were fixed on Desiree's sour visage. "I've got my target all mapped out."

Walker was the first to advance, as always, jumping forward and reaching his arms out as if to pull Danny to him. Instead, Skulker's boots, propelled forward by jets, allowed the ghost hunter to ram into the warden, knocking him down painfully.

Ember took this distraction as an opportunity to lunge at Desiree, inciting a shriek from the former genie, whose immediate reaction was to hold her arms to her face for protection.

The Box Ghost, apparently caught up in the excitement of everything happening all at once, ran out next, coming to a halt when his brain caught up to him and he realized exactly what he was doing. Too late to turn back now, he searched desperately for someone small and weak enough for him to pick on, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of Youngblood watching the action disinterestedly to the side. Youngblood's eyes widened when he spotted the Box Ghost hurtling right at him, having time to only let out a squeak before he was tackled to the ground.

"Why, my lady, may I have this dance?" a smooth voice was heard behind the Lunch Lady. She turned around to find the tiny stature of Bertrand gallantly holding his arm out for her to take. She raised her eyebrow in confusion.

"Really? _You_ like women?"

The Lunch Lady started laughing uproariously and bent down to better inspect the short man, reaching a large hand out and cupping it over his head, turning it from side to side curiously. She chuckled. "Why, if you were a boy in my school, all the girls and I would be spending all lunch hour talking about how wonderful you are at hopscotch, I reckon."

Bertrand colored profusely and shoved her hands away indignantly. "Now see here, madam, I—"

"Ooh, and don't it look just like a doll," Bertrand let out a yelp as he was plucked off the ground and snuggled right into the bigger woman's heaving bosom.

"No, no, let – me – _go!_" Bertrand struggled to no avail, unable to fight the pressure of the woman's punishing embrace.

As Bertrand continued to fight his way out, the battle raged on. Danny had come to realize just how difficult it would be for him to win as he had no Fenton Thermos to round up the ghosts. His only hope was to knock them down and work fast, but every time one of them lay stunned, another was there to take their place.

_This is hopeless_, his mind yelled at him as he fended off yet another attack. He didn't have time to respond to the doubt right then because he was too busy ducking Walker's punch. He had barely spun around when he found himself trying to avoid the whip of a ghostly tail as it snapped towards him. Skulker had now wrestled Walker to the ground and the two were currently fighting for dominance. Danny took the cue and jumped past them to where Technus was hovering next to the ray gun.

"Oh, no you don't," Bullet grunted, abandoning the wheel to jump in front of Technus, protecting the prodigious inventor from harm. He whipped out his sword, brandishing it under Danny's nose.

"Get out of my way." Danny's arms began to color a vivid green. Bullet laughed.

"You want me out, you gotta take me out," he mocked. "Come on, ghost-boy."

They were positioned towards the railing. One good blast, and Danny was certain he could knock the purple ghost over the edge for the white light to deal with. But Bullet pounced, the soles of his feet landing solidly on Danny's chest, forcing the breath out of him. Technus hovered protectively over his machine.

Danny was almost back on his feet when Bullet went for him again, gripping his hair painfully and tossing him backwards until his head bumped against the wooden rails.

Danny was not too out of it to see that Bullet had done him a favor; by throwing him back here, Danny now found himself closer to Technus and his machine than ever. The inventor had realized this too, holding his arms up as if to keep Danny back. Danny knew he had to make sure Bullet couldn't take him out again, so he quickly turned intangible as he crept towards Technus.

He had just sidled up to the machine, with Technus' protesting sqwacks ringing in his ear, when he realized he would have to turn tangible once again in order to stop the damn thing. Reluctantly, he turned his wrist corporal again.

"That's as far as you go, soldier," Bullet hissed in his ear, then grabbed Danny's wrist in a painful vice grip.

"Turn tangible!" Bullet demanded loudly over Danny's yell of pain. "Turn tangible and fight like a man!"

Danny had no choice but to do so, if only so that he could get enough leverage to force Bullet away. Satisfied, Bullet let go of his hand, but only long enough to grab on to his jumpsuit and pull him up so that their noses pressed together.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time," he breathed into Danny's face. Danny's eyes widened in fear as the sound of Bullet's sword running against the metal of the ray gun's body carved itself into his brain.

Bullet drew the sword up, running the pointed end teasingly against Danny's belly, poking against the vulnerable flesh underneath the jumpsuit with deliberate intent.

"Yes, a long, long time." The tip of Bullet's tongue darted out, wetting his lips and brushing against Danny's dry ones, poking lasciviously into the his gaping mouth and flirting with Danny's own tongue before drawing back.

"And it's going to feel so good," Bullet rearranged them, bringing their hips together where Danny could feel a hardened bulge in the ghost's slacks pressed against his leg, "to finally see you go."

The pressure of the sword upon his skin increased, and Danny whimpered as Bullet thrust against him once more. Then, the pressure from both points disappeared entirely from Danny's senses as Bullet was unceremoniously pushed aside as the hulking weight of Walker was beaten back by Skulker. Skulker paused several feet away and raised his arm. In the middle of his hand, a square compartment slid away to reveal an arrangement of small missiles. Danny jumped back just in time to see them take off and explode upon impact as they reached their target. Walker let out a grunt, obviously holding back the pain.

Seeing this, Bullet ran forward to help, but just as he blew past Danny, the space behind him suddenly _ripped_, and a long, furry arm reached out from the space within to grab on to Bullet's face and pull him back. Wulf's snout poked through before his entire head made its way out. The mongrel let out an angry snarl and forced Bullet to the ground as it clambered through the space his nails had created. Pausing to give Danny an affectionate lick, Wulf got on his hind legs, and with an ear-shattering roar, lifted Bullet over his head and threw him into the ghost portal, which sealed itself afterwards almost instantly.

Wulf turned his beady eyes onto Walker. Skulker gave a malevolent grin.

As the 500-pound beast advanced upon the warden he so hated, Skulker jumped towards Technus and beseeched him. "Nicolai – whatever you think you are accomplishing, this is not the way to do it."

"The humans must know who to submit to!" Technus declared harshly. "They will come for us one day unless we show them a reason not to. They cannot revolt under the might of the ghost world!"

"Nicolai, you know what is at stake here!" Skulker barked. "It is not the humans that we hide in fear from. Whatver it is that seeks to purge our world is bigger than them. We must stop now, for this is a fight we might not win. Do not meet your destiny with fresh blood on your hands. You have to repent. If we are truly facing Judgment Day, you cannot jeopardize your chance to be granted through the gates of Heaven."

"There is no Heaven!" Walker boomed. "There is no God. We have _all_ learned that the hard way. All we have is _here_ and _now_!"

Skulker was blocking out the sound of the warden's voice. "Your family, Nicolai," he said quietly. "Your children – your grandchildren – will you risk your chance to be with them again, for this shell of an afterlife?"

Technus stared at him, his face void of any expression. Danny knew he was mulling things over, and as much as he wanted to scream at Technus to _hurry up_, he had to give him time.

Suddenly, a hearty voice broke through the contemplative silence. "An anthropomorphic wolf? Well, now I've seen everything!"

Danny whipped his head around to find Bertrand watching them, a leer on his face. "Why don't you let me show you how it's done, Fido!"he offered before transforming into a large, green wolf that snarled at them and galloped forward on four legs. Wulf was caught off-guard by this strange apparition and forced back, freeing Walker from his hold once more.

Walker chose to take down the more immediate threat, jumping at Skulker and initiating another beating session between the two warriors. The entire ship was entrenched in battle. Johnny had summoned his Shadow who was doing more than its fair share of kicking butt, gnashing its teeth wildly at anyone who dared come too close to its master. Ember was still occasionally fighting with Desiree, but the distinction here was that Ember was the one picking the fight, in between whopping back a horde of other adversaries as well; the Box Ghost had opted to focus almost exclusively on Youngblood; while the Lunch Lady was ferociously grabbing on to different ghosts, slamming their heads together and tossing them aside in a pile before reaching for two more victims. Danny turned his attention to Technus, advancing forward slowly.

All of the fighting immediately ceased however, when all attention was diverted to a range of blasts that landed solidly upon one of the masts of the ship, following by a dozen more, until finally, the wood cracked, and a part of the pole dropped away from the remainder, breaking apart and headed straight down for the mass of bodies below. There was a loud cry from the crowd, but before the pole could get much further, it stopped, prevented from crashing down upon them thanks to the rope that still clung on to it.

There was a sigh of relief from the crowd, and then another row of blasts were heard, causing the rope to fray, and the wooden pole came tumbling down anyway, eliciting another shriek and causing the ship to tilt precariously to one side due to the sudden weight.

"Starboard!" Youngblood hollered immediately. "Port! Port! Er … get to the hull of the ship!"

"Do you even know what you're saying?" the Box Ghost questioned.

"A little bit!" Youngblood snapped impatiently.

Danny's attention was on the ray gun. The shift in the angle of the ship meant that the angle of the energy beam had been likewise altered; he could only imagine which part of Amity Park was bearing the brunt of its force now.

"What caused that?" Walker demanded suspiciously, his eyes raised upwards to inspect the broken mast. As if on cue, a singular figure glided into sight, balanced on a metal plate that spanned from the soles of his boots and allowed him to fly. The ghost-hunter raised his gun and shot out another warning round, which landed on an empty space cleared by the undone pole. In response, Skulker raised his arm, poised to shoot the new invader down.

"Wait!" Danny cried, beckoning for him to lower his defenses. "I think he's here to help us."

"Doesn't look like it," Ember muttered from nearby. No one was acting, simply staring motionless at the sky, waiting for the zooming figure to do something more. In response, he propped up his gun again, and fired a blast directly at one of Youngblood's men, leaving the ghoul's skin sizzling.

"He's a human!" Walker boomed out. "What did you expect? Shoot him!" At the same time, Danny was urging his group, "He's on our side! He's on our side! Keep fighting!"

The scene erupted into chaos again as now the ghosts tried valiantly to battle not only each other, but dodge the attacks of the ghost hunter as well.

"We've got it covered!" Skulker grunted out to Danny. "Go! Go!"

Danny nodded and tore past Skulker and Wulf, who were still locked in battle with Walker and Bertrand respectively. Technus was coming right at him, but just as Danny was about to reach him, he was stopped short by a blast from the ghost-hunter's gun.

Danny cursed his bad luck. He had been so close. Technus wasn't even paying attention to him now, trying to drift past the ghost hunter, whose sole attention seemed to focused on the industrial-sized ray gun. Moreso than attacking Technus, the ghost hunter was dividing his attention between searching out any weak points around the machine that might be susceptible to his firing, to launching attacks on Technus who was trying to shoo him away. Danny couldn't get close with such erratic shots coming from the ghost hunter, who didn't seem at all concerned whom he shot at, so long as he managed to hit something. He probably thought he was the only good guy around.

Wulf was sent sprawling, and suddenly Danny found himself the center of Bertrand's very unwelcome attention. The form the shapeshifter had taken one was larger than Wulf, and more menacing looking to boot, Bertrand didn't waste any time, lunging from Danny so that his skull connected directly into Danny's ribs. Danny was sent flying, once again over the edge, and desperately reached out to grab onto the railing.

The ship had dipped lower now, the cloud sinking down slightly so that Danny could see the edges of Amity Park when he looked down, unable to resist gauging how far the fall would be from here. They were now passing over the familiar sites surrounding Amity General – meaning that they had now crossed over to the suburbs, leaving the business district in ruins. Summoning his strength, Danny pulled himself back over the railing, turning intangible once he found the bulk of his weight straddling the barrier so that it would be easier to climb back on board. No one had recognized his reentry thanks to his intangible state.

There was a ringing sound in Danny's ears, which he brushed off as the result of having almost fallen off again, but strangely enough, it seemed to be growing louder instead of dimming.

Danny had only just come to the realization that it might not be him when suddenly the wooden floorboards that lined the shift suddenly started quaking, before a large hole was created as something shot through from underneath.

Again, all activity stopped as this new contender made its presence known. Danny slipped back to his tangible state and stared at the mass of the black that now hovered in the air in the middle of the ship, a large hole evident in the floorboards beneath it from where it had broken through. It appeared to be made of black fire, with dark head of flames at the very top. It had no legs, only a tail, and its eyes were glowing red.

It was Spectra. And she looked livid.

The wolf that had knocked Danny over the side immediately disappeared, replaced by a timid-looking man. "Why, Spectra," Bertrand ventured, looking more than just surprised by this unexpected development. "Why my dear, what are _you_ doing here? I haven't seen you since – since—"

But Spectra didn't seem interested in holding a conversation. Slapping its hands over its ears, it let out an inhuman shriek, effectively silencing Bertrand's dithering monologue. Still shrieking, Spectra reached her tail out to wrap around Bertrand's waist, bringing the rotund man up to face her and letting out a deep roar right in his face. Bertrand let out a scream, and then he was let go, Spectra's tail swinging out and tossing him beyond the ship's railings, his terrified scream hanging in the air behind him. Danny swiveled around and watched in mute disbelief as Bertrand disappeared beyond the clouds, and his screams were abruptly cut off.

Spectra had gone mad. Danny took in the tormented posture of the demon floating in the air before him. Its wails rung out as though it were a banshee, and it grasped on to its own head as though the sound of the very wind sliced through its heart. With another cry, it reached out blindly for another ghost, and threw it over the side too.

The ship's occupants were immediately galvanized into action. Several ghosts came forward, shooting at Spectra with cries of protest, and the ghost-hunter seemed torn between taking down this new opponent or allowing it to continue on in its rampage taking other ghosts down.

The scene was getting too crowded for Danny. Now that he knew that they had passed by the business district, it wouldn't be long before the rest of Amity Park was in ashes too. With Bertrand out of the picture, Wulf was free to help Skulker fend off Walker, and they would be able to take on Technus. Danny, on the other hand, knew he had to focus elsewhere.

Before Technus could be stopped, Danny had to ensure the ghost ship would not keep progressing forward. The first task would be to take down the sails; the second would be to go down and stop Youngblood's crew from manning the oars.

Danny took off, mindful to keep far enough away to avoid the ghost-hunter's attention. The ghost-hunter had apparently decided Spectra was more friend than foe at the moment, and was now blasting at random ghosts, causing them to keel over long enough for Spectra to reach for them and howl in their faces before throwing them to their doom.

Danny soared past a rope ladder and landed upon one of the massive poles that supported the ship's sails. Quickly, he powered up his fists and tore through the sheet, drawing a large rip through the canvas and rendering it ineffectual. He pointed his other hand over to the right and fired a continuous stream of ghost energy, slashing through the delicate fabric with his powers again.

The ghost hunter had caught sight of what he was doing now and, alarmed that Danny had been able to fly so high up without his notice, opened fire on the young half-ghost. Danny dodged the blasts, but let out a pained shout when he got hit on the side of his leg, which buckled and forced him to one knee.

No time to waste. Crouching, Danny used up his last remaining seconds to blast through another set of sails, and then dropped down from the mast just in time to miss the ghost hunter landing mere inches from where he had been standing just a second before. Realizing he had missed his target, the ghost-hunter immediately pointed his gun downwards and aimed at Danny, who quickly turned invisible so as to avoid detection.

He landed solidly on the floorboards, then let out a soft groan when pain shot up his leg again and forced him back onto his knees. There was a howl above him, and Danny looked up to see Spectra preying down on him.

"Oh, shit!" Danny let out as he tried to roll away in time. There was no recognition in Spectra's eyes, only blind fury. Its tail wrapped itself around Danny's useless ankle and drew him up. It purred, reaching down and stroking his face, something it hadn't done with any of its previous victims, and Danny knew it was because he was still alive and available for her to feed upon. Reacting quickly, Danny formed a ball of ectoplasmic energy and threw it right in Spectra's face. The demon howled and released its grip on him to claw at its face roughly.

Danny peeled himself away from the wall to search out a way to get down below where he could find Youngblood's crew, and then let out a gasp as another piercing shriek rang through the night. Spectra whipped its tail out and Danny gaped as he watched it snag Johnny 13 around his trim midsection. Johnny, who had not realized he was caught until it was too late, let out a choked cry and tried to push his way free from the coil it had him in. He tried blasting it, as Danny had, but missed Spectra's face, and Spectra didn't seem content to let another victim go so easily. Danny let out a warning shout as Spectra tensed its tail, before releasing Johnny from its grasp and throwing him overboard.

Johnny's wild cry of panic caught the attention of the Shadow, who had been keeping away a selection of enemies intent on getting their hands on Johnny. Realizing what had happened, the Shadow swiftly drew back from the fight, racing over the edge where Johnny had disappeared and going after him. In his thumping heart, Danny prayed that it would be able to save the man.

There was no sound to be heard, and then, a shriek of pure agony broke the scene.

He didn't make it. Danny hung his head in a moment of respect for Johnny. The Shadow had failed to catch him in time and was now undoubtedly mourning the loss of its master.

Danny steeled his resolve and stumbled forward, his eyes searching out a way to get downstairs and end this madness. Several ghosts lay littered about, too beaten to fight anymore. If Danny had had this thermos with him, he would have taken pity on them and zapped them to safety, rather than leave them for Spectra to pick over.

His tired eyes managed to find a door, and his heart began thumping wildly. Behind it were no doubt stairs leading down into the cabins or engine room, or whatever it was. Eventually it would lead him to the ghost crew who were propelling the ship forward. But before he could sneak over towards it, a loud voice was heard over their heads.

"_Only _I_ may bend the rage of the skies to cater to my will!"_

The dense clouds gave way to reveal a gigantic silhouette that loomed over the vessel. Danny reared his head back and stared transfixed as the figure came into view.

"The protection of _my_ clouds used to bear fruit to this false lightning?" the incredulous voice of Vortex burst through as he circled the vessel. "The channels of nature, reflected in this pale imitation, this mockery that spits on the gifts bestowed by, I, the ruler of the atmospheres?"

The ship was no longer moving, caught by the sheer magnitude of the god-like apparition. Danny knew the crew was still down there, most likely oblivious to what was going on, because no one had come rushing upstairs, but he knew all the same that they were no longer moving because Vortex himself remained stationary now. Perhaps he was holding them in place, or perhaps he had simply relieved the curtain of clouds from the drifting state.

Danny and the rest of the ghosts onboard watched in awe as the gigantic ghost, Vortex, reached down for the ray gun and ripped it from where it stood, cutting off the flow of power that had been generating from it, and raised it to his eye, miniscule between his fingers. Then Vortex parted his lips and swallowed the machine whole.

"If it is fire from Heaven you seek," the great spirit thundered down upon them, "then it is fire you shall receive!"

And with that, he threw his arms over his head, and a bolt of lightning struck the ship, landing not three feet from where Danny was standing. There was a cry from the ghosts nearby as the part of the vessel that had been hit exploded. Fire broke out, something Danny had not really expected on a ghost ship. Vortex was once again swinging his arms in gesture, and two more bolts of lightning simultaneously struck either side of the ship, sending its occupants reeling from one end to the other. Only Spectra appeared unaffected by this, still howling along with the roar of thunder that swelled over their heads.

"That's it, I'm getting out of here," Ember bade, taking flight and soaring away without a backwards glance. Desiree followed suit, desperately trying to avoid the bolts of lightning. Danny kept trying to get to his feet, but was constantly being bowled over by the ship's rocking under Vortex's ministrations. The ghost hunter was nowhere to be seen. Everybody was abandoning ship.

Walker shoved past him, diving off the edge of the ship and soaring back up to shoot beyond the clouds. Skulker had drawn out his wings and was urging Technus to come along with him. Wulf crawled up to Danny unsteadily and butted his cheek with his snout. "Friend?"

"I'm okay," Danny gasped out, still trying to get some leverage. "Go – go! I'll be fine." Wulf nodded and drew himself up carefully to rip new shreds through the fabric of space, disappearing after it. Several ghosts jumped in behind him, taking a one-way ticket back into the Ghost Zone. Spectra continued to remain unaware, shrieking in aggravated fury and trying to curl her tail around anyone who would be able to provide her with her next fix. The doors were bursting open, and Youngblood's ghostly crewmen were rushing out in a hurry. Several ghosts tipped over the side, pushed over by a combination of gale-force winds and Vortex's determination to knock the boat over its side and off of his cloud.

It was enough for Danny. The ray gun had been deactivated and there was still another matter to take care of: Freakshow. Danny hurtled past the clouds, and took to the air, and was amazed to find that Vlad's mansion stood only several yards from where he was now, its observation tower poking through the especially lowered clouds. Furious determination written all over his face, Danny zoomed to meet the mastermind who had unleashed all this upon his town.

It all clicked in his brain in an instant. He knew where Freakshow was hiding. He had known it ever since Walker had told him the two of them were working together. If Freakshow needed the help of ghosts, he would need a ghost portal. And the only that had a ghost portal safe enough for him to use was in Vlad's mansion.

Furious determination etched upon his face, Danny locked his arms and legs together and zoomed for Vlad's estate.

* * *

The observation tower was the only place grandiose enough for Freakshow to hide himself away in, Danny knew. The highest point of Vlad's palatial estate provided sufficient drama to satisfy the demented man, with its sole window pointing out to the lay of Amity Park stretched out beyond it.

Freakshow would want to get a good seat to witness the destruction.

Danny landed quietly in the observation town, his leg quivering under his weight. The room was small, there was no way for him and Freakshow to miss each other. All he had to do was make sure he got the upper-hand first…

Danny let out an _"oof!"_ of pain as his wrists found themselves caught in something, and he was propelled backwards until he slammed ungraciously with his back against the cold, stone wall. Freakshow stepped out of the shadows, an eerie grin on his face.

"Welcome, my friend," he greeted. "I have been waiting for you. So glad you could make it."

Danny's arms were stretched out and pinned to wall, causing his body to hang limply with his weight balanced excruciatingly upon the support against his wrists. He gritted his teeth against the pain. Darting eyes to the very corner or his sight, he could see strange markings upon his gloved wrist. They looked like…

"I see you're admiring Lydia's tattoos," Freakshow noted pleasantly. "They are rather wonderful, aren't they? Not terribly original," his eyes flashed, "but the things she can do with them is just _magical_."

"For example," the former ringmaster expounded, "did you know that they are able to separate themselves and fly off her body? It's rather marvelous." Danny knew this, of course; he had witnessed it from the first time he'd met Freakshow and Lydia. "_And_, did you know that they have this rather outrageous habit of bringing inanimate objects to life?"

Freakshow's teeth glinted in the blackness of the surrounding shadows and dark alcoves. Danny was forcefully reminded of the small bat-shaped image that had crashed into the school's scoreboard before broadcasting Freakshow's message. So that was what had happened. "Put one on a camera," Freakshow was saying now, "send out a few more to find something that can send and receive images, and boom – _live public access!_" he sang.

"So the only thing I want to know is," he drew his pointed nose close to Danny in a hungry gaze, "did you enjoy the activities I planned for our little ice-breaking session?"

"You're insane," Danny spat.

Freakshow chuckled and backed away. Danny tried uselessly to pull away from the bonds of the tattoos that pinned his wrists against the wall. "Insane, yes," Freakshow patted a telescope positioned near the window of the tower, lowering his eye to peer through it, "what a miracle it is to be – for I see all the things that those burdened with the ugliness of sanity cannot. I suppose if I were to be sane, then I would be feeling just as helpless and afraid as you must be feeling now."

"I wonder, child, if you are yet able to appreciate the sheer serendipity of your situation?" Freakshow proposed. "Here you stand, half-human, half-ghost champion of the world. Friend of none, enemy to all." He fixed Danny with an intense stare, as if searching out the answer by reading his soul.

"Now here you are, while the ghost world stands on the brink of annihilation, and the human world grows ever tighter under the guise of protection. Order has fallen through in one world, while it struggles to establish itself in the other." Freakshow began pacing about, as if delivering a sermon. "Straddling the line once again between victory and defeat. You prevented victory for the ghosts seeking to gain the Plasmius half for their own, and allowed them to broil over in their anger, and look what it has brought you now."

"I didn't do _this!_" Danny ground out. How dare the other man try to make him feel guilty over what had happened. "_You_ were the one who got the ghosts together and told them to attack."

"Oh, yes, yes I did," Freakshow looked extremely proud of this achievement too. "It was all too easy to do so as well. Once I heard that the Guys in White had left Washington to establish a base in Amity Park, why I knew there was something going on here that I just _had_ to be a part of."

"So you killed him," Danny concluded for him. "You killed Jason Belgrave in Washington D.C. and found a way to come into Amity Park, didn't you?"

"Oh, bravo my boy, simply delectable!" Freakshow clapped his hands together slowly. "But I'm afraid you overestimate me. You see, it wasn't _me_ who broke into that poor man's house while he was having his dinner and slaughtered him like a hog to the grind. No, _that_ was dear Lydia. Once she realized the Guys in White had left me with nothing more than the protection of that goon, she simply followed him back home and unleashed her tattoos upon his unsuspecting self. There was hardly anything left by the time she got into the apartment herself."

"But…" Danny's mind was reeling. "But why did the Guys in White leave you under _one_ agent's charge?"

"Oh, I wonder – it must be something to do with the fact that they're the most discredited branch of the Bureau of Investigations," Freakshow mocked. "Those agents have long been considered a waste of time, it's laughable, really – so laughable that they kept having their budget cut, to the point where only a handful were allowed to remain while the money went to fund more _useful_ resources. And once they heard about that poor unfortunate boy who had been blasted out of the sky in Danny Phantom, they _all_ wanted a piece of the action.

"So, what to do with poor Freakshow, the only criminal they ever managed to capture under their name? Why, obviously, pan him off to a more reputable member of the FBI while the whole cast and crew lop over to settle down in Amity Park. Don't you _get it,_ boy?" Freakshow's voice turned dour. "The Boys in White are one budget cut away from being disbanded altogether. _That's_ the reason why so many of them have invaded your town. The hauntings in Amity Park are legend throughout their group, and once Amity Park made the headlines, they had their excuse. They came here to capture a ghost and prove their worth within the government so that they won't have their operations shut down."

"And you've given them exactly what they asked for," Danny told him.

"Have I, boy?" Freakshow's voice turned coy again.

"You have no idea how easy it was to pull the whole thing together. Once I was freed, Lydia and I simply had to make our way to the ghost portal the Guys in White had designed over at their base in Washington. Within a few days of travelling, we found ourselves the first exit, into Vlad Plasmius' castle!" The entertainer put on a tap show for his audience for emphasis at the last part.

"From there it was simply a matter of making our way through all the ghosts who know and hate you, urging them to give it one last shot. Especially easy was the warden. He was ready to listen to just about anything I said. How simple it was to convince him that it was all _his _idea, rehashing the details of his last attack and assuring him that if he was capable of doing it once, he could certainly do so again. Not much points for originality, but, I suppose when it gets the job done, who can argue with the results?" Freakshow patted Danny's cheek in a show of camaraderie.

"I have to say, I didn't think it would be _nearly_ so easy to get past you – you've slipped past your usual standards, my dear boy. All this sneaking around we had to do, and you didn't suspect a thing! Reconstructing the ship, stealing the parts, designing the machine – the entire time, I was _certain _you were going to appear at any moment and ruin the whole thing, but you didn't.

"And now, here you are, trapped with me, while the world lies in ruins. In a matter of minutes, my plan will be complete."

"You didn't complete it," Danny huffed against the pain. He didn't know how much he longer he could go on distributing his weight between his wrists. "I stopped you. We all stopped you. Your ray gun is completely destroyed, the Guys in White are still here, and _Amity Park_ is still here. You didn't achieve anything."

Freakshow cracked a bloodcurdling smile.

"Still so sure of yourself, little boy," he said plainly. "Did you honestly think my plan was to set fire to some small burg in Middle America? Certainly you know me to aim a little higher than that."

Freakshow disappeared within the folds of the alcoves again and reemerged once more carrying a camera balanced on a tripod. Danny could see a small green icon of a snake curled to one side of the camera's surface. Freakshow kicked the telescope over, causing it to roll on the floor, and delicately placed the camera directly across from Danny where it would be able to capture him like this, pinned to a wall and unable to get free. Behind Freakshow was the window, the only path to freedom, blocked.

"The special properties that surround the ghost ship renders it invisible to the eye of the non-believer," Freakshow stated. "Not that that does any good with a town as exposed as yours, but do you know what that means to the rest of the world, my child? It means that nobody outside of your _dinky little town_ is going to believe that a large ship carrying ghosts was responsible for the events that took place here tonight. All they will see is the footage of me, introducing the greatest, most devastating destructive force the world has ever known, and they will know that _I_ was the one responsible for it.

"The people will cower at the sound of my name after this night," Freakshow gloated, fiddling with the cameras lens. "And when the ghost dimension advances forward with their attack, the mortal world will be powerless to stop them."

"_They're not going to advance forward with their attack!"_ Danny shouted hoarsely. "Don't you get it? Walker _failed_. Youngblood's ship is a wreck and all the ghosts have fled back to the Ghost Zone. None of them support your little plan anymore."

"All the better for me to work with," Freakshow said easily, raising his eyes finally to take in the sight of Danny pinned five feet above the ground. "Do you remember what I was saying about the serendipity that pertains to your situation, Phantom? Half a man, half a ghost, belonging to none? You have spent your life creating a reputation as a defender of the people against the supernatural, and now, after the worst ghost attack in Amity Park history, the people look to _you_ to put an end to their misery. What do you think would be running through their heads if they were to see you like this, at my mercy?"

Danny's eyes flickered over to the camera that was pointed directly at him.

"The citizens of Amity Park would lose hope; they will venture out of their homes to find the image of you on every large TV screen throughout town, begging for me to let you go – and they will lose hope. Once the resolve of the humans weaken, the ghosts of the netherworld will realize their opportunity and strike; raids in London, blasts in Tokyo, hauntings in Nebraska! The mortal world will be overwhelmed by the onslaught and surrender to their fear."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Danny burst out. "You _hate_ ghosts."

A moment of silence, and then a chilling smile made its way over Freakshow's lips.

"Yes," he said quietly, sounding more lucid than he had this entire time. "I hate ghosts. Which brings us to the very crux of my plan, Phantom, the very reason why I have taken the trouble in planning tonight with such great detail." He moved away from the camera now, walking slowly up to Danny.

"Tell me, do you know how to kill a ghost?"

Danny was forcibly reminded of that day when Vlad had come over to his house aided by a team of lawyers. _You can't kill a ghost_, Vlad had told him. _"Their inherent powers – _our_ inherent powers – all but prevent outright destruction to another of our kind. You would have to be a significantly powerful to pose any sort of immediate severe threat to another."_

"You see, that fool of a warden was so caught up by the power of the destructive beam that he was certain anyone caught in its path was a lost cause," Freakshow said. "But what he doesn't realize is – what _nobody_ realizes is – you can't possibly hope to kill a ghost using sheer force alone. That's what missing in all these formulas they write out so happily at Axion Labs. These new _improvements_ upon their weaponry, these Gen 2 machines their scientists create – completely unnecessary without realizing the missing link. You _ can_ kill a ghost, all you need is to use the right power. Not brute physical force, but something of a more _spiritual_ nature. Something like this—"

And Danny watched as Freakshow reached his fingers up and plucked out the red gem fastened to his ear, the sister, Danny recognized, to the one he had used years ago to power the Reality Gauntlet. It was not actually an earring at all, he had learned from last time, but a magical stone of some kind. Freakshow sauntered towards the door leading out of the observation tower and picked up a large gun Danny hadn't noticed was there before.

"So kindly contributed by the men and women at Axion Laboratories," Freakshow reported. "I had Technus snatch it on the way out and asked him to fit in certain improvements. The design was fine by itself, but it needed a little something to make it respond to this—" he flashed the earring so that in glinted in the light, and made his way back behind the camera.

"With the application of physical energy already stored within this ecto-gun coupled with the energy within this gemstone," Freakshow was reciting to himself, "I shall achieve what none have been able to do in the history of mankind: create the first ever ecto-ray gun capable of fully destroying an ectoplasmic entity for good. And you, Phantom, will be the very first test subject to experience it.

"When the camera goes on, your face shine over Amity Park's hopeful denizens. And once they witness what I have accomplished, they will realize that they have no choice but to surrender to my will. And once the ghosts realize that I have not managed to create an instrument not only capable of destroying them, but also the one that destroyed _you_, the Ghost Zone's greatest enemy, with nothing more than a single blow, they too shall give in to my demands, and hand over the reins to their dimension – and I, Frederic Isak Showenhower, will go down as the most feared human of _all time_!"

Freakshow's voice had risen to a frenzied pitch of excitement throughout his explanation, and now he calmed himself down to fix Danny with a level glare. Knowing that the ghost boy was watching his every move, he pressed the button on the camera with great deliberation.

"Now," he continued in a low voice as the red light blinked on. "Look into the camera, Phantom. Look into the camera and tell your people goodbye."

Danny's eyes were fixated on the clear lens of the camera. Freakshow perched his large bazooka-like gun upon his shoulder. Unable to watch him pull the trigger, Danny tightened his eyes and turned his head away, waiting for the searing blast of the ecto-gun to encapsulate him.

It never came. Danny heard the sound of a blast being released, and braced his body for the impact, but it never came. After only a moment, he opened his eyes and turned his head away. Showenhower was still standing there, a smile frozen on his face. Tendrils of smoke were rising into the air.

Danny let his eyes wander lower, pulling away from Freakshow's nightmarish face to focus on his slim torso. Moving even lower following the trail of the smoke, Danny's mouth fell open when he noticed the big, gaping hole in Freakshow's belly. It almost looked like it had been carved out of him, a mortal wound that allowed Danny to see past his body and to the background behind it. With that smile still frozen on his face, Freakshow toppled over, the gun dropping out of his hands, and the camera jostling forward but otherwise still standing. Behind him, Danny could see the crouched figure of the ghost hunter perched upon the windowsill, still holding on to the smoking gun that had killed the man before him.

Before he could register what had happened, Danny was dropped unceremoniously from his position against the wall, the pressure at his wrists disappearing, landing like a heavy sack upon the stone floor. The force of the impact reverberated within him as, with another loud _"oof!"_ Danny was forcibly turned back from the ghostly form and back into his eighteen-year-old counterpart.

In a blind moment of panic, Danny thought that he had just transformed for all of Amity Park to see, but when he looked up, the camera was still standing proud on its three legs, aimed several feet above where he lay now, meaning that no one had caught it. No one except…

Danny turned frightened eyes upon the ghost hunter standing before him in his red-and-black suit. The hunter wasn't moving; Danny knew he had to be in shock over what he'd just seen. Neither of them said a word, just looking at each other; Danny with his wide blue eyes, and the hunter through his polished helmet.

The silence between them drew on, until finally, the hunter turned, clicking his heels together and escaping through the window, disappearing into the night. Danny remained where he was for another moment, still unable to move from fear, before gathering his wits about him enough to crawl past the eye of the video camera, and transform back into Danny Phantom.

Balancing himself on the windowsill, Danny flew away from the observation tower back to where the cloud still boomed with Vortex's wrath. He broke through the tufts of grey to fly along the side of the green sheep with its raggedy sails, up to where Vortex still loomed, larger than life, directing thunderbolts to strike the ruined ship.

"Vortex!" Danny hollered as he floated as close as he dared to the god of the skies. "Vortex!"

"Spare yourself the misery," Vortex thundered. "Accept my mercy while it is yours to take."

"That's not why I'm here," Danny responded. "Vortex, enough – you have to listen to me."

This got the ghost's attention, but not in the way Danny wanted it. He had to swing back to avoid being jabbed when an enormous finger spanning nearly the entire length of his body came his way.

"_Vortex listens to no man, ghost-child!"_ the ghost rumbled. "The will of the skies is not yours to command. Repent, or suffer as your comrades have suffered."

"They are _not_ my comrades," Danny declared staunchly. "Vortex, you have to stop this. You're the only one who can put an end to all that has happened here. I can't, I've _tried_. You have the power, you've shown us yourself. Just … please, put an end to it and let's move on."

Vortex considered this, one of his large eyebrows rising at the invitation. He brushed his hands over his chin, considering.

"Perhaps you are right," he conceded, giving the hull of the ship a disgusted glance. "I have had enough of this craft that trespasses upon my territory, as if it was available to be conquered." He fixed Danny with a glare. "Go now, and spread my message to all who will hear: anyone who dares to challenge Vortex at his art _will_ suffer the consequences."

Danny nodded along, knowing that he would never, ever repeat a single word of what happened that night to anyone aside from his friends. As he floated back, Vortex rubbed his hands together before thrusting them into the air and rising high above the ship. As he rose, the clouds began to gather together, pulling in from all directions and melding until it became impossible to distinguish between where one cloud ended and the other began. They swelled up, rising together like yeast and then churning back down upon again.

As Danny started to lower himself away, he could see Spectra still trapped on the ship with no apparent desire to leave. Soon enough, she wasn't able even if she wanted to, when the clouds began swirling together gently until the winds picked up speed, shaping the clouds until they clasped Youngblood's ship in their folds, causing the ship to begin rotating too, slowly tilting upon the bed of clouds as thunder rumbled around it.

Danny floated down until he couldn't see the ship poking down anymore, and the sound of the angry clouds as they began to shift from a pale grey to dark black served only as further motivation to stay out of the way. The clouds had swallowed up the ship entirely, and crackled with intensity as the mass flashed under the power of lightning. Danny felt his skin prickle as his senses flooded with the wet taste of the atmosphere at work. Once again, he felt the crackle of lightning mirrored within his bones as he carried on watching this amazing sight. The clouds were eating away at the vessel, he knew that even though he couldn''t see it. The entire power of the skies, compounded into a ball of fury, working with only one goal in mind. It was truly wondrous to behold.

The sky groaned under the weight of its vigor, the clouds detaching and reattaching as the currents pulled them, never once letting loose of the captive within its folds. Thunder boomed and the blackened clouds heaved with the might of the brutality contained within. Danny felt his legs land once more on solid ground, the people of Amity Park gathered around him and staring transfixed up at what was happening above them just like him.

And when the clouds dissipated, and the heavens parted, the phantom ship was no more.


	45. Last Rites

Great billows of smoke were still rising into the air when the first rays of sunlight broke through the valley that morning. As the dawn broke through the skies, the landscape of the town was lit up to reveal the full extent of the devastation that had been wreaked upon Amity Park. As the people slowly emerged from their hiding places, a collective wail of anguish swelled up and hung above the air. Buildings had been reduced to small piles of rubble, most of that which had been affected by the energy beam having been disintegrated into near nothingness; whatever did remain standing around the vicinity were mere husks, with the remaining matter crumbling even as it stood.

Voices called out anxiously over one another, hysterical mothers searching for their children, neighbours stumbling over stray blocks of bricks trying to find any other survivors.

And then of course, there were the cries for help.

Danny had spent the remainder of the night flying to the spots he knew, making a map in his head of how badly the suburbs had been struck. The Nasty Burger had been blown to pieces, recognizable now only by the few shards of the giant sandwich monument that lay on the ground, smouldered at the edges, where the eatery had once stood. And if the Nasty Burger had been destroyed, that meant the school had likely suffered a similar fate.

The size of the Casper High grounds had saved it somewhat from having been completely erased. The building itself had half collapsed, leaving a lurid image for Danny to behold. Water was gushing from a pipe over at one section of the ruin, where a drinking fountain had once stood. Lights crackled and hummed dangerously overhead from the part of the school that still remained, Specks of white dust were floating before his eyes, the remains of debris eliminated so completely that only particles finer than ash trailed behind.

The football pitch, extending from the right end of the building, now appeared to be completely separated from the rest of the school due to the gaping hole that embedded itself like a barrier of nothingness in between the campus. The concrete parking lot allocated to the south of the school was nowhere to be found, and the bleachers had been swallowed up by the energy beam as it tore past too. All that remained was the painted end and the row of bleachers at the other corner of the pitch, and to add insult to injury, the cracked scoreboard, now darkened and no longer spitting up sparks. Danny had landed just in front of the machine to inspect it curiously. His eyes were immediately drawn to the middle of the screen, where the icon of a small grinning bat was pasted, no longer glowing neon green, but now a dull flat color resting on the electronic surface of the board.

Danny glanced down at his gloved hands, his mind wondering, Cautiously, he peeled the gloves off, his hands shaking as he turned them over. Hesitantly, he reached for his right arm, gingerly drawing back the fabric of the black jumpsuit with bated breath.

The air came rushing out of him and his posture slackened as he stared down at the vulnerable spot just under his wrist. Plastered over the delicate blue veins that gathered there was was a tattoo of wolf baring its teeth. Danny stared at it in stupefied horror, then slowly moved to his left arm and tugged the sleeve of his jumpsuit back. There, on his other wrist, was the image of a snarling panther meticulously outlined and colored in green ink. Lydia's tattoos, still embedded upon him, just as surely as the bat remained on the scoreboard, having sunk under his gloves when they had pinned him to the wall in Vlad's tower, and had now carved themselves a place upon his flesh.

Danny brushed at the imagery, not sure what he was feeling; confused, bewildered, angry? All he knew was that the images appeared to be permanent for they weren't coming off even as he increased the pressure of his scrubbing.

Decisively, he slipped his gloves back on, resolving to come back to them later, before taking to the air again and zooming away from the remains of Casper High.

Deep grooves ran along the earth, cutting a swath through pavements, splitting roads, wide mounds of dark earth left behind to illustrate the path the ship had followed overhead, highlighted further by the destruction heaped upon residential homes and parks and shops along the sides. As he soared over the town, he spotted sparse movements of activity down below as the people began to venture forth from shelter.

Watching them, knowing he was now close to his very own neighborhood, ugly images of his house and his parents came unbidden into his mind. Fear began to fill up inside him as his mind ran over the details of what had occurred the previous evening. He had told Tucker and Sam to keep his parents safe, to keep them away from the destructive beam's force, but what if they hadn't made it in time? His parents had been enjoying a night at home; what if they hadn't seen the news, heard the screams, been caught unaware until it was too late?

Shaking his head, Danny directed himself to come in for a smooth landing on the main street, not bothering to look around as he transformed. There was no reason to care at the moment.

Jogging up the road, Danny turned the corner at a house on the corner that, to some surprise, was largely untouched aside from a corner at the top of the building sinking inwards. Mentally picturing the scene, Danny determined that this was a point at which the ship had violently swerved, the beam catching at the side of the building, but leaving it otherwise upright as the angle of the vessel shifted.

He fastened his pace, dread overwhelming him and causing large drops of sweat to trickle down his forehead. Freakshow had targeted the white trucks that harbored the Guys in White, and there was one situated right across the Fenton residence. As he approached the block he lived on, Danny's legs slowed down to a slow walk as he took in the sight that lay in front of him.

Unlike the other regions of Amity Park he had glanced down upon, the street he lived on showed no signs of activity. He didn't need to inspect the rubble closely to realize that this area had been struck much harder than the main road he had just been on. Of course, it stood to reason, that the main road hadn't been the intended target for the ghosts last night anyway, the people there had merely been unfortunate enough to get caught in the crossfire.

Absolute silence reigned over the street he walked on now. Danny numbly placed one foot in front of the other, slowly edging forward and his eyes flickered about to take in as much as he possibly could.

Houses on either sides of the sidewalk had been all but demolished, great yawning holes along the foundation and on the rooftops; most of the trees that had surrounded this once leafy suburb had been obliterated; half-worn barks stood in their place with abruptly shortened branches bearing stray leaves that blew lethargically against the soft breeze. There were no birds chirping, a constant melody in the background that Danny hadn't missed until it was gone. There were no cries for help, no stray animals that drifted past searching for companionship, no clattering from desperate families shifting through the rubble; no movement whatsoever that Danny could observe,

The stillness of the scene unnerved Danny more than he could comprehend. What he found to be the most notable aspect of this situation were the tendrils of smoke that wafted from the dwellings that surrounded him, yet he could not spot nor feel the effects of any open fires to generate them. It was almost as though everything that had been struck had simply dissolved out of existence, the power of the beam too strong to leave behind any trace behind; just a clean, simple sweep, and everything in its path was just … gone.

The house, Danny was thankful to find, had not been annihilated entirely. The townhouse his family resided in appeared to have been broken in half. The right side of the house appeared to have been left largely intact, while the left appeared to have taken the brunt of the attack.

His eyes shifted upwards, to the attic. The blimp that stood atop the Fenton residence was gone, and, Danny surmised, so was the ladder that led one up to the FentonWorks laboratory, gone along with the left half of the townhouse. What remained of the laboratory in the attic was now unreachable.

Gingerly, Danny climbed over a jagged remnant of the wall and stepped inside what remained of his home. The living room was darkened, the lights having been blown out by the attack. Danny felt his foot slide over the slippery earth and hastily reached out to the grip the broken edges of the wall to steady himself. He glanced down and noticed that he was standing nearly ankle deep in mud from the great cavity of earth the energy beam had exposed as the tile from the flooring that had once lined the floor was destroyed by the impact of the beam hitting the ground.

The living room appeared to have been devastated. The bowl of popcorn on the table and a comfortable throw blanket draped carelessly upon the couch were in sharp contrast to the missing walls that were meant to have enclosed the area. The television, which had been propped to one corner of the room, was also missing.

Danny's eyes languidly surveyed the room, his eyes coming to rest on the door towards the side that led down into the basement. Jolting upright, he rushed over to it and sharply pulled at the doorknob, letting out a yelp of surprise when the knob came off in his hand, while the door remained sealed. Puzzled, Danny stared up, his eyes studying the spot until he realized that there was something off about the angle of the door. Taking a step back for a better view, Danny noticed that the door itself, while standing, had tilted somewhat so that it pushed awkwardly against the frame. The door was stuck, obviously having been tilted off its axis from the vibrations of the attack.

Resolutely, Danny pushed against it, apply just enough strength to get a good grip on the surface and then focused on directing his energy outwards, feeling his powers flow through his veins and down his arms until the white door shimmered and turned translucent. Delicately, Danny turned his wrists a few degrees, feeling the door pivot within the frame until it was placed back at the correct angle.

Satisfied with his work, Danny cut off the flow of energy, feeling the apparatus beneath his fingers turn solid again. He straightened up and pushed lightly at the door. It remained still for a few scant moments, then began to plummet backwards, aiming straight at him as it fell off its hinges. His eyes widening, Danny leaped out of the way just in time to hear the loud thudding of the rotten door as it landed heavily upon the spot where he had stood moments ago.

The basement was even darker than the living room, the light permeating through the area where the door had been giving way to eerie pitch black. Danny reached for the banister as he placed his foot on the first step, freezing when he heard it creak and bend under the firm pressure of his hand. He pulled it away, startled by the realization that it was possibly about give way. Blindly, he tread down the stairs, pressing himself up against the wall to steady himself against the risk of stumbling.

His breathing was coming out ragged and loud, echoing against the walls, but as he moved downwards, it occurred to him that the sound was too heavy to be coming from just one person. He froze on the last step. There was someone here. "Hello?"

"Danny?" he heard a familiar voice in response. Light flooded the room, and Danny winced at the abrupt change. Through his eyelids, he saw his mother rushing at him to pull him into a suffocating hug.

"Oh, thank God," Maddie was sobbing into his hair. "We wanted to find you, but Tucker said that you were at Samantha's house and that it would be too dangerous for you to travel all the way back, and that we all needed to get away—"

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny could see his best friend and his parents huddled together by a dim nook, next to a tired-looking Jack. As his mother led him over, Danny noted to some surprise that they were not alone; several people he recognized as his immediate neighbors were huddled in groups around the basement as well.

"Good, the generator still works," Jack stated as his wife and son joined him at his side. "I was afraid nothing would hold out. We better save this."

"Hold on, Jack, just – one minute," Maddie said wearily. She leaned over to inspect her son's dirtied face. "Danny, what happened? You look awful."

"I'm fine," Danny brushed off. Taking advantage of Maddie's close presence, he muttered to her, "What's going on here?"

Maddie pulled out a bunch of tissue papers from the depths of the purse she had lain on the worktable, rubbing the dirt away from Danny's cheek. "Everyone's been hiding here since the news broke. It's the only safe place that was accessible in a hurry."

"Good thing you didn't hide in the attic," Danny shuddered.

"Hmm? Oh no, dear, that wouldn't be safe," Maddie replied absently. "In a crisis like this, the best place you could possibly hide is underground. That's the sort of thing you learned early when you grew up in my day."

"Hey," someone croaked behind them. "Boy."

Danny turned to see a pudgy middle-aged man with thinning hair in the corner clinging on to two girls no older than ten staring pleadingly at him, "What's going on out there? You been there, haven't you? What's going on out there?"

"I…" Danny gave his mother an uneasy glance before turning back to the older man, "I, uh, think it stopped."

"What was it, kid?" the man pressed fretfully. "An attack? A ghost?"

"It wasn't a ghost!" a shrill woman from the opposite side of the room hollered, "I saw that video – it was a terrorist, wasn't it?"

"I—" Danny's eyes darted over to take in the frantic expressions of the men and women gathered around the lab; he couldn't tell any of them about the part he played in last night's events. "I – I'm sorry, I – I don't know."

But the crowd would not be sated. Several of them drew in, starting to close in on them, bombarding him with questions. "My daughter called me from across town, she said it was no ghost that did this!" "It was a man! He went on camera – we all saw it!" "How could one man have done something like that? It's not possible!"

The angry protests of the people compounded them, a cacophony of fear and disbelif swirling all around them, until finally one voice broke through to silence the crowd. "Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" Tucker hollered, shoving forward and waving the discontented figures away from where they had begun to corner them.

"Look, what does it _matter_?" he barked. "We've been waiting all night for news, and now Danny's here – Danny—" he spun around to face the teen, "—what did you see?"

"Uh…" Danny droned out. Tucker was kind of putting him on the spot here.

Tucker gazed meaningfully into his eyes. "You know," he prodded, "on your way over here from Sam's house … what did you see?"

Danny let out a huff of relief. "Not much…" he deliberated, then paused as eager faces drew closer.

He closed his eyes. It was better to tell them now, than to let them experience it without warning. "Everything's … gone," he stated baldly.

The words hung in the air for a moment.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" a voice from the back demanded angrily.

"_Albert, shush!" _a woman warned in a harsh and dry tone.

"Well, what's he talkin' about – 'everything's gone'?"

"Danny," Maddie said anxiously, "what are you talking about? What's happening?"

"_Is it war?"_

"No!" Jack responded loudly. "No one's at war here."

"I … don't think anything else is going to happen," Danny added after a moment.

"Well, what did you see?" Tucker persuaded. "We know we got hit outside, look!"

He pointed up at something beyond Danny's shoulder, so Danny twisted his body around to catch what Tucker was talking about.

His eyes locked on to a patch on the ceiling of the basement just over the staircase he had descended from. The rafters was curved outwards, no longer running straight overhead, giving the impression of almost breaking apart.

"That's where that white light passed through your house," Tucker informed grimly. "We were afraid the whole place was going to cave in, and it probably would have if we got hit a second time."

The two boys shared a dark look with each other, then Danny turned to face the rest of the group. Quickly, he snatched Tucker's arm and pulled him away. "Is this everyone from the street?" he questioned.

Tucker shook his head, keeping an eye out for anyone who might have been trying to eavesdrop on them. "Just the ones we could convince to come with us. Sam and I noticed from the footage Freakshow shot that the beam only breaks through a few centimeters when it hit the ground – so we decided that the safest place was to keep everyone in the basement. Some of your neighbors ran for it though. They didn't want to take the risk of remaining here."

"So no one else stayed?" Danny persisted. "Everybody either evacuated the area or came to hide down here … right?"

"I think so," Tucker shrugged. "I don't see why anyone would have chosen to stick around when everybody knows the Guys in White had a truck lodged here. Danny, what's going on?"

Danny took a moment to blink away the prickling sensation behind his eyes. "It doesn't … it doesn't look good, Tuck," he choked out. "The houses … everything up above has been hit. You wouldn't even recognize the area anymore."

He could feel Tucker's posture slacken, and realized belatedly that he was still clutching on to his best friend's arm.

"Where's Sam?" he managed after a moment, remembering to keep his voice down so the others wouldn't hear them.

"After you left, she dropped me off at your place and went back to her own," Tucker informed. "She said that she needed to make sure her family was okay, and that her place would be big enough to hide more people in."

"Have you heard from her?" Danny asked.

"We haven't heard from anyone all night!" Tucker dug into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone, raising it to Danny's face to show the raven-haired boy the dead coverage. "Some communication towers must have gotten knocked out while all this was going down."

Danny nodded, pushing Tucker's arm away. "Okay," he murmured. "Okay … so, we'll get everybody upstairs and then we'll drive down to Sam's and make sure everything's alright."

Tucker nodded and stared at Danny for a brief moment. "_Is_ everything alright?" he questioned eventually.

"I stopped it, if that's what you're asking about," Danny replied quietly before turning around and stalking back to the others.

They journeyed up the wobbling staircase after Danny had given them some time to digest the report he'd told them about what remained of their homes, but it was still inadequate caution for the true reality of it. Danny's parents were the first to meet the ugly truth, as they took in the precise amputation of half of their estate, the bleak sunlight filtering through the hole just beyond the kitchen.

They were led out not through the front door but through the shattered wall adjacent to it, stopping to blink their eyes in adjustment after having spent the previous night ensconced within the shadows of the basement, and Danny was then treated to the shock and disbelief that flooded their eyes as they took in what was left of their once-quaint little suburb.

The retired couple who lived three doors over waddled away as fast as they could to assess the damage to their property. The single mother and her young son were hunched over in their yard now, grieving over their loss. Mr. Harrelson, the retired schoolteacher, who survived on a meager pension and the rates he received from renting out the room in his house, was shouting angrily to no one in particular as he gazed up at the demolition that had befallen his second floor. Danny couldn't stand to look, so he turned away.

"Come on, son," he heard Mr. Foley beckon. "Let's go back home."

"Oh … but …" Tucker hesitated, recalling his earlier agreement with Danny to check up on Sam.

"I'm sure the Fentons' would like to be alone," Mr. Foley said firmly. "Come on, dear, let's…" he paused when he caught sight of Mrs. Foley a few feet ahead, standing stock-still on the sidewalk.

"How are we going to get home?" she said blankly.

"What's that?" Mr. Foley raised his eyebrows.

"How are we going to get home?" she repeated, still not moving. "I can't find the car."

It was then that Danny realized that there was not a single car to be found lining the road, a strange sight for a residential area. Not only had the white van disappeared, so had all the other vehicles that Danny was accustomed to seeing parked along the houses. This statement seemed to have struck a second blow to all who had heard Mrs. Foley's words, and Danny's ears were filled with the discontented murmurings of the neighbors.

"How about we call a taxi?" Mr. Foley suggested.

"Reception's dead, remember?" Tucker pointed out in response.

Mr. Foley sighed. "Bus?"

Tucker snorted. "Today? Doubtful."

"Guess we'll have to walk then," came the defeated conclusion.

"I have a car," Danny said suddenly. "I parked mine in the garage Friday morning." He pointed over to the garage, the extension on the right that his parents had built a few years ago for the purpose of housing the Fenton R.V. "I could give you a ride if you want."

Old Mrs. Krendall, who lived at the other end of the street, piped up in a creaky voice, "But what are we supposed to _do_?"

Everybody gathered around turned to look over at her. She had her hands pressed against her heart, her walking cane dangling from one hand. "Everything's _ruined_," she burst out. "Where are we supposed to _go_?"

Chatter broke out again as everybody realized that this was something they had yet to discuss. Where were they supposed to go?

"Surely the city must have some sort of emergency drive for such a crisis as this," Maddie said. "Some sort of communal shelter organized for emergencies where everybody can congregate."

"We'd probably know about it if that blasted radio had worked – or if our cellphones had worked – or if there was any way of getting some word out that we're _stuck_ here!" Maddie placed a consoling hand on his arm.

"We could try to scout for a place," Danny offered, gesturing to Tucker and himself. "You said that some of the neighbors evacuated the area, right? They must have gone somewhere to spend the night."

"I don't think you should, Danny," Maddie said doubtfully. "The roads are extremely dangerous right now."

"Yeah, there barely _is_ a road anymore," Jack pointed out.

"I'm a careful driver," Danny brushed off. "Look, we need to travel somehow, don't we?"

There was no arguing this point; regardless of how bad road conditions were, the residents would still need to get to a safer location. Danny's parents, however, put their foot down at allowing him to drive. "You don't have the experience," his mother said bluntly. "There are two of us – your father will drive your car, and I'll take the rest along in the R.V." So it was with that that the Foleys squeezed in the backseat while Danny and Jack went in the front; behind them, Maddie slowly guided the van along the road, taking care not to slide the wheels along the slippery earth that remained exposed along the path. When finally they arrived at the Foley residence, Jack cut the ignition and let out a sigh of relief.

"Most terrifying drive I've ever had," he commented. "You are _not_ driving this thing again until the roads are fixed."

The Foleys swung open the door and practically toppled out of the car in eagerness to get up close to their house.

"Danny," he heard Tucker say in amazement, "we weren't hit at all!"

It was true; the Foley residence looked as sturdy as ever, but as Danny made his way over to his friend's side, he had to take care once again not to slip on a patch of cracked pavement and dirt.

"This must be where the energy ray was coming in," Tucker observed as Danny scraped the mud off the soles of his shoes. "And here, look, this is the curve it made from when it swerved away – it must have changed direction just before it reached our house."

Mr. and Mrs. Foley were to the side, hugging one another. When they broke apart, Mr. Foley said to his wife, "Why don't you go inside and make sure everything's alright in there? Jack—" he turned to Danny's father. "I'm grateful for my home having been spared from last night's craziness, and I know never to accept good fortune without giving something in return. I'd like to come with you to organize those who lost their houses and direct them to a relief center."

"Great," Danny jumped on this suggestion at once, turning to his dad. "Then you two and go and do that, and Tuck and I here will go find Sam and keep looking for people who need help. You can use my car."

"Well, alright," Jack said. "Only because it's safer for you to be on your feet rather than in a car right now anyway."

The boys bade goodbye to their families, then proceeded to saunter away, waiting to get away long enough to hide from sight, before Danny transformed and took to their air, grasping on to Tucker's hand as they turned invisible.

* * *

"We lost the west wing, but no one was really using it anyway," Sam said easily as she led them through the entrance hall. Danny's eyes flicked over to the walls, checking for any structural damaged the family might have missed, but everything appeared to be fine.

"So it came through here?" Danny shook his head. "I can't imagine how terrifying that must have been."

"I can't imagine how terrifying it must have been to stop it," Sam returned. "We were all hiding in the cinema, first thing I did when I got home was wheel my grandmother out of the room and down below. Thank God for elevators, huh?"

Tucker and Danny shared a bemused look. "Yeah," the agreed flatly.

"Did you get your power knocked out?" Tucker questioned.

Sam shook her head. "No."

"What about your phone reception?"

"On my cellphone and one phone line, but we have multiple, so it didn't matter."

"Aw man," Tucker groused. "You rich people get everything."

Sam shrugged. "Dad always figured something like this was bound to happen, so he invested in making sure he could still work from home no matter what crisis Amity Park went through. He was so pissed off when the Ghost King held the town hostage – he had a shipment order to Milan he needed to keep track of."

"So have you gone outside yet?" Danny asked lethargically.

"I haven't dared," Sam stated. "Until you guys showed up, I was convinced this was the calm before the next storm. So … is it?"

"I don't think Freakshow will be trying anything again," Danny muttered, looking down.

There was a full moment of silence wherein the other two waited for him to explain what happened, but when Danny failed to reply, Tucker turned to Sam and said, "Well, if you've got a TV, what are we waiting for? I've been dying to catch the news."

Sam picked up the remote as she sat down on the overstuffed couch and flipped the television on. However, rather than the sharp, high-quality images that typically appeared, the screen was filled only with a fuzzy reception.

"Great," she said, flipping it off and tossing the remote down. "No reception."

"Don't you have satellite?" Tucker questioned.

"It got blown to bits along with the west wing."

"Awesome," Tucker sighed. "Our town's in ruins, we're stuck in the suburbs, and we're completely in the dark because we can't even find a single news segment that might clue us in to what's going on with the rest of Amity Park."

Danny shrugged as he tossed himself backwards upon the overstuffed armchair in the Manson's theater room. With no TV reception available, and unable to connect to anybody else with a working phone, there was little else to be done but sit around and wait. Danny's eyes surveyed the area, for lack of anything else to do, and noted the various textbooks and notepads that lay scattered around the floor.

"You know, there probably won't be any need for those anymore," he nodded over to a pile of books that had been tossed together haphazardly. At Sam's curious glance, he supplied further, "Casper High is gone."

This kernel of news clearly had a profound effect on the girl. Her amethyst eyes widened in shock.

"_What?"_

"It was one of the places I saw on the way back," Danny elaborated. Now that the truth of the situation had sunk in a little bit, he couldn't honestly say he had been surprised; his own parents had warned him that the Guys in White would probably be staking out every place that Danny frequented, including his school – not to mention that they had dragged both Kwan and himself out of classes before in order to interrogate them. Casper High was obviously meant to be one of the main targets of Freakshow's attack.

"But the good thing is," he added, "I don't think anyone got hurt – I didn't see any bodies when I went inside."

"What did it look like?" Sam pressed.

Danny shook his head, and looked down at the floor, unable to meet her eyes. "You don't want to know."

She would see it for herself soon enough anyway, he was sure.

Sam buried her head in her palms and began to suck in deep calming breaths, trying to stabilize herself against the reality of what was happening around them.

At that precise moment, there was a light tapping on the door, before it swung open to reveal a meek-looking woman dressed in uniform. "Miss Manson?" she ventured, "your parents have asked for all three of you to come upstairs, to the entrance hall." To Danny and Tucker, she informed, "Your fathers are waiting for you."

The Mansons' were gathered near the front doors together with Danny and Tucker's fathers, awaiting the trio. It was a sign of the troubling times that Jeremy Manson was able to look upon Danny with no trace of dislike marring his face. He simply gave the boy a curt nod as the three kids approached, and turned back to Jack.

Jack looked exhausted, and Danny couldn't help but wonder just how his father had managed to maneuver his car through the obstacle course on the way to town.

"We made it all the way to city hall," Jack declared as they were ushered to the dining room where lunch lay steaming. Tucker harrumphed when he noticed that his own concoction had not made it to the table, surmising that the cook must have thrown it out the moment he had left the kitchens. A few servants were gathered around, not bothering to hide their eagerness to learn about what was occurring outside of the suburbs. "There's a relief operation in works to provide shelter for anyone who has lost their homes."

"And where's mom?" Danny asked.

"Axion," Jack informed simply. "I'll be heading there next, and I can drop both of you back home on the way there," he nodded to Tucker and his dad.

"And what about the road conditions?" Pamela Manson questioned.

"Nothing to be done about that yet," Jack shook his head. "It's a big job – more potholes than asphalt all the way into the city. Right now, Ida Stubbs is trying to organize whatever resources we have available to provide for more immediate emergency efforts: housing, food, clothing, communiqué, that sort of thing."

"And what about—" all faces turned to a blushing maid who had suddenly spoken out, "—what about the people? The …" she seemed to have trouble getting the next few words out, finally stuttering, "…_the dead people?_"

All eyes turned back to Jack, whose face suddenly looked older and more lined than before.

"Death toll is still currently in its most rudimentary figures," Jack reported tiredly. "But from what I can gather, it's only climbing upwards. They're already making plans for a funeral procession to be in the next few days. They want the dead buried as soon as possible."

A bleak silence overcame the room as each person attempted to visualize the chaos that lay beyond their doors.

"Why are you guys going to Axion?" Danny asked his father. "Was it blown up too?"

"I hope not," Jack murmured. "We found out some of the experiments have gone missing, we need to do an inventory check."

Danny recalled then what the Box Ghost had said on the ship the previous night, how he had seen Technus stealing mortal technology in order to create the ray gun onboard the vessel. Then his eyes widened as his mind drifted back to his encounter with Freakshow. _"I had Technus snatch it on the way out,"_ he had gloated to Danny, brandishing the gun he had intended to kill him with. _"So kindly contributed by the men and women of Axion Laboratories,"_ he had said.

Danny narrowed his eyes. Freakshow's corpse still lay there, in Vlad's tower, no doubt with the gun still in his cold, dead hand. He had to get it back.

Jack was still talking, so Danny drew himself out of his reverie and brought himself back into the present.

"…heard that there's going to be mass funerals held all over town to accommodate the victims around the different parts of town," his dad was saying. "Father Julian is most likely going to be presiding over the ceremonies at His Shining Grace."

"I'm more concerned about the survivors to be honest," Sam said bluntly, causing her father to give her a glare for her disrespectful attitude, but to Danny's surprise, Pamela Manson nodded along with her daughter.

"Yes, the funerals are one thing – but what's more important is what can be done to help the survivors," she said. "I'm sure there's going to be more people who have lost their homes than any relief center can accommodate."

"Danny said you guys lost your place," Sam addressed Jack. "Where are you going to stay?"

"There'll be some camps set up in the city," Jack said. "We'll be moving what we can over there. Either that, or we'll set ourselves up in the Fenton R.V."

"Oh, nonsense Jack, don't be silly," Pamela chided. "Sleep in a _car_? You can't be serious."

"Pamela—" her husband said warningly.

"We won't hear of it," Mrs. Manson ignored him. "There's ample room in our house to accommodate you."

"No there isn't," Jeremy stated immediately. Feigning a look of deep apology on his face, he said to Jack, "Our place got hit too, you see – we lost the _entire_ west wing…"

"Jeremy, please," Pamela rolled her eyes. "When was the last time you even stepped foot into the west wing? You'll hardly even notice it's gone. There are plenty of places we can put the Fentons' in. The south wing, for instance, you don't even like the décor there—"

"But it sounds as if Jack already has everything sorted out, we shouldn't get in the way of his plans…" Jeremy argued weakly.

Sam nodded. "You're right, dad," she said sweetly. "Maybe the Fentons' won't need our help after all. Their situation doesn't sound as dire as all the other hundreds of people who don't have an R.V. to stay in, we should probably open up our home to _them_—"

Jeremy's eyes widened in shock, and Sam and her mother shared a discreet smile with each other.

"Jack," Jeremy turned to the burly man beside him, "I absolutely _insist_ your family stay with us during this difficult and troubling period, it's the least we can do for our _dear_ friends…"

Jack looked uncertain. "I don't want to put anybody out," he started.

"You won't be putting anybody out," Sam assured quickly. "There's plenty of room, and I've stayed over at your place plenty of times—"

"You have?" Jeremy interrupted, a disapproving look on his face.

"—and plus," Sam ended brightly, "it'll be fun!"

"Well, I don't know," Jack said slowly. "I'd have to run it by Maddie first – what do you think, Danny?"

All eyes shifted over to him, and with a jolt, Danny found himself quickly browsing through his options. His parents staying alongside the Mansons meant an extra set of eyes on him at all times; but the Manson residence also afforded a lot more space and privacy in case he needed to transform; plus, Sam would be around him, which could only be a plus.

Feeling the weight of stares on his shoulders, Danny found himself hesitantly agreeing to the offer.

"Great!" Sam chirped. "So all we need to do is go over to your place and pick up some clothes and…" she trailed off, her brain catching up to her words, suddenly reminding her of the predicament they all found themselves in now. "Oh. Right."

There was a terse moment of silence in which none of the people gathered in the hall were able to look each other in the eye. Then, Danny said stoically, "I have clothes."

All eyes were on him again.

"Did you go up to your room earlier?" Jack frowned, puzzled.

"No," Danny clarified, "but I saw which parts of the house were still standing when I came to get you guys earlier. My bedroom's almost entirely gone, but the part where my closet is was still intact."

"But how are you going to get up there?" Jack questioned. "The staircase was blown up."

Danny waved his hand dismissively. "We'll find a way. I'm pretty sure there's a ladder stored somewhere down in the basement."

They argued over it a little bit more before Jack relented, warning Danny to be careful. "The ceiling could cave in on you at any moment, we don't know how stable it is," he said as Tucker and Mr. Foley began boarding the R.V. that would drop them back home. "But if you _do_ manage to get upstairs … would you get us some clothes too?"

Danny smiled warmly after his father. "Sure, dad," he promised.

Jack grunted, reaching down and ruffling his son's messy hair. "Be careful of the road!" he hollered, before closing the door and pulling out of the Manson estate.

Danny watched them go from the drive way, his father struggling to maneuver the bulky vehicle he had arrived in back out the long but slender strip of concrete that led up to the Manson estate. Sam stood with him, her amethyst eyes bright as she waved them goodbye. Once they were gone, the two kids turned back around to face Jeremy and Pamela, who were already looking doubtfully at one another, silently wondering what to do with their daughter and her undoubtedly very hormonal male friend.

"Well … why don't you kids go watch some TV," Mrs. Manson suggested helpfully.

"Reception's knocked out," Sam stated, because it seemed like everyone was having a little trouble remembering the fact that they no longer had access to the luxuries they did only 24 hours ago. Before the elder Mansons' could suggest a different activity, Sam snatched up Danny's hand – Jeremy's eyes narrowed at this – and announced, "Danny and I are going for a walk."

"A walk?" Pamela sounded startled. "Why, don't be silly, Samantha; the roads aren't safe—"

Sam brushed off her mother's concerns easily. "The roads aren't safe for _cars_, maybe," she pointed out. "Nothing's going to happen while we stay on our own two feet."

The moment she said those last three words, Danny knew she expected him to fly. Inwardly, he groaned. Transforming into Danny Phantom was the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now, but if he knew Sam, she had already taken it for granted that he would be giving her the grand tour of their new landscape. Sam dragged him along until they had reached past the iron-wrought gates, pretending that her parents had bidden them a merry goodbye rather than desperately protest for her to reconsider.

"Thanks mom, but I'm _way_ too full for dessert!" Sam called over her shoulder in response to Pamela's wail of, _"Samantha, come back, the ground is probably weakened enough to break open under your feet and swallow you whole!"_

"Sam," Danny started to say, "Whatever you're thinking—"

"Let's go see how the city looks!" Sam almost sounded excited by the prospect.

"No," Danny said firmly. "Sam, I don't want to go."

Sam blinked in surprise at this, her features expressing confusion. "You don't want to go?" she echoed blankly. "Why not?"

"Why not?" Danny raised his eyebrows, hardly believing what he was hearing. _"Why not?"_

"Look around, Sam!" he gesticulated. "What is it you want to look at?" Danny couldn't hide the anger boiling in his voice. "Is it the school? Do you want to see what it is that we have left of Casper High? Or go down to the city and count how many buildings are still standing? Or maybe we can go down to the park and try to clear away all of the uprooted trees!"

He was ranting, he knew it. But he couldn't help himself; he found her curiosity, her fascination, revolting. He knew he couldn't blame her for it; if their positions were reversed, if _he_ had been the one sitting in a darkened basement last night while all of Amity Park collapsed around him, he would have been plenty curious too. But he hadn't been hiding – Danny had been the one out there fighting, trying not to acknowledge all of the carnage that was being wreaked under his very feet as he remained sheltered way up in the clouds. Didn't Sam understand that? Couldn't she comprehend just how _battle-scarred_ last night had left him?

Suddenly, despite his earlier determination not to fly, Danny simply couldn't wait to get away from her. He spun around, disgust still evident in her voice. "If you want to take a tour of the new Amity Park, then be my guest," he spat. "But find yourself a different guide, because I'm not."

Sam stood stock still, and the shocked expression on her face etched itself into his brain as he shut his eyes to block out his surroundings. "I'm sorry, Danny," her voice floated softly to his ears. But Danny wasn't interested in apologies. Transforming into his ghostly alter-ego, Danny kicked himself off the pavement and soared into the air, leaving Sam behind to watch, a lonely figure staring up into the sky, and growing ever smaller standing against the expanse of the ruined mansion behind her.

* * *

From Sam's house bordering closer to the east, Danny mindlessly zoomed northwest closer to the rich side of town. He passed the gated communities placed on the outskirts and shot deeper into the heart of the more affluent neighborhoods, until finally he passed the lavish acres of the Sanchez residence to reach the more humble abode of the Baxters'. He was gratified to find that almost all the houses in this district appeared to have been relatively untouched. Landing in the bushes and hidden amongst the trees, Danny slipped back into his regular teenage form and peered through the thicket.

He had kept his mind carefully blank throughout the journey here, refusing to play back his one-sided argument against Sam over again in his head; he knew he was in the right, and that thinking about it would only serve to make him doubt that fact. He had also taken much effort to avoid thinking too much about where he was heading and what he was likely to find there. He couldn't, however, block the image of Dash's terrified face from entering his mind, recalling the last kiss they had shared behind the bleachers at Casper High's football pitch. From there, the gnawing doubt had crept into his heart, filling him with dread. What if Dash was…?

Danny shook his head. He was here now, and out of all the places he'd seen today, the rich side of town was undoubtedly the best one yet. As long as Dash had gotten back home last night, there was no reason to expect anything bad. None of the houses in this part of town had been affected. Seeing no one around, he summoned up his courage, and stepped forward to approach the door.

Clearing his throat, perhaps to put it off for a moment longer than necessary, he raised his hand to the front door of the Baxter residence and knocked.

There was a terse moment, one, two, three … Danny's shoulders slumped and he turned to go.

Then the door swung open so fast it almost snapped off its hinges, and Dash was standing there, his muscles tense, his hair tussled, his eyes red. Danny pivoted around on one foot and the two of them stared each other for one long moment.

Danny didn't know if he'd been the one to move or if Dash had come running to him, but before they knew it, both of them were in each other's arms clinging on tight, and everything felt right again.

* * *

"My dad went down to city hall to see what could be done," Dash explained later as he led Danny through the hall. "He's an engineer; he figures he should do all he can to help rebuild Amity Park. He didn't want to waste any time."

"But how is he going to get all the way down there with the road conditions?" Danny questioned.

Dash shrugged. "We've got a four-wheel drive so I guess it shouldn't be too much of a problem. They're supposed to be able to maneuver through all sorts of landscapes, right?"

"He'll definitely be putting that one to the test," Danny muttered darkly. "How's your phone?"

"Fine," Dash reported, nonplussed. "Why, how's yours?."

"Ours is probably buried somewhere beneath a pile of rubble," Danny stated. "But Tucker says he can't get any reception on his cell."

Dash nodded contemplatively. "Some communication towers must have gotten knocked out," he reasoned.

"That's the popular theory," Danny recalled Tucker saying the exact same thing. He couldn't help but wonder how many people were sitting up scared inside their homes, unable to call up their friends or the authorities, left to wonder if the destruction was over, or if they were in for more, too afraid to venture out of their homes or peek through their windows for fear they would die.

Returning back to the present, Danny found himself caught by the hard gaze emanating through icy blue eyes. Something in his soul stirred as Dash's fingers lifted to his face to gently card through his messy black locks.

"I thought you might have died," Dash said quietly.

"I was scared you might have too," Danny replied softly.

The silence of the room was compounded only by the cool breeze that wafted through the window, the thin white curtain fluttering as the wind brushed against it, the sunlight pouring through and bathing the room in an ethereal glow. But all Danny could see was Dash, hunched over low as his face drew closer, filling his vision until his eyelids fell closed, and then, finally, their lips met as the two lovers shared their first tender kiss.

And to Danny, it was more precious than even the first kiss they had ever shared.

It was incredible, how much they had missed each other even though they had only been apart for a couple of hours since Danny had last entered the Baxter residence, but the absence had been felt all the same, and was reflected in the passion of their kiss. Dash's fingers crept their way to Danny's jawline, tipping his head up to deepen the kiss, Danny's mouth falling open so that Dash could run his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tickling Danny's teeth and flirting with the tip of Danny's own tongue. Danny clasped his hands upon Dash's shoulders, eventually wrapping his arms around the width of Dash's broad shoulders as he began to lose himself in the heat of the moment.

The moment was soon interrupted, to both boys displeasure, by the shrill ringing of the telephone. As if by instinct, the two of them jumped away from each other as though burnt. Danny was huffing for air, his chest heaving, while Dash collected himself and smoothed out his hair, darting a look over to the next room where the phone was sounding off. "I'd better get it," he decided. "It might be my dad."

Danny nodded quickly, mirroring Dash's actions by smoothing out his messy locks as well. He took the opportunity while Dash was away to gaze around the living room, taking in the décor, which was a bit more plain and down-to-earth than what he'd seen before in Sam or Paulina's houses. The couches looked comfortable and well-worn, as though the family regularly sat down to watch TV together, there was a modicum of clutter spread throughout the place, just enough to make one feel at home; Danny could see pictures on the mantelpiece that chronicled the Baxters throughout Dash's life. The first few showed Mr. and Mrs. Baxter posing with a little boy with a wide, toothless grin and a mop of disheveled blond hair; then the more serious pictures as Dash went through his teenage phase when he, apparently, refused to smile for the camera, instead maintaining a stoic countenance, until finally, when Danny's eyes travelled to the last picture framed for display, of Dash and his father standing together, hands behind their backs, with false cheer written all over their features. Danny picked up this picture, careful not to smudge the glass, inspecting the photo within.

This was how Dash found him when he walked back into the living room, his footsteps jerking Danny out of his thoughts and forcing him to place the picture back on the mantel, a guilty expression on his face. He turned to make some excuse to Dash, some lie about not having just been caught snooping, but the words never got a chance to escape his mouth, flying out his brain as he took in the look of uncertainty and apprehension that the jock wore.

"What's the matter?" Danny asked, his voice ringing loud and hanging in the air.

Dash, who had been gazing forlornly at the ground, raised his baby blue eyes to meet Danny. His hands were clasped together, and he was twiddling his thumbs, clearly wanting to say something but not knowing how.

There was another moment of silence before Dash decided he had to speak. "That was Mister Lancer," he informed.

"Oh," Danny replied blankly. Then he cringed. "Oh. Was it about the school? I saw it earlier this morning, it looks pretty bad, but it's not like it was completely demolished or anything; a lot of the area was still standing. I'm sure rebuilding won't be as hard as it looks—"

"No, it wasn't that," Dash interrupted in a strange, quiet tone. Danny lapsed into silence, not knowing what else to offer.

"Well, _what_ then?" he pressed.

Another pause, and then Dash raised his eyes to lock on to Danny once again. He opened his mouth to speak, but was obviously having trouble forming the words. His hands were clasped even tighter now as he tried to vocalize what he had just been told. "Danny…"

"Principal Ishiyama is dead."

The statement lingered above them long after it had been said. Danny stared at Dash, unable to move, unable to _think_. Dash shuffled his foot awkwardly, not daring to take his eyes off the smaller boy now that he had gotten his attention.

"They pulled her body out of her house this morning," Dash continued in that foreign toneless voice of his.

"Lancer said she had skipped the football game so that she could relax at home. He's guessing that she never got a chance to see that video everybody else did at the football pitch, and by the Dashtime she had realized that something was wrong, it would have probably been too late to evacuate the area.

"She was on the second floor of her house when it started collapsing. She wasn't touched by that … thing – that white light – but when the house began to collapse, she…

"She just didn't make it.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

* * *

The sky was fully overcast by the time Dash Baxter hung up the phone on a worried Samantha Manson. The girl had been livid, but incredibly worried about her friend; from what Dash could gather from their somewhat stilted conversation, the Fentons' had made prior arrangements to stay with the Manson family for the time being, and would be, Sam had told him, wondering where Danny was before long.

Well, it didn't appear that Danny would be content to leave so soon. The raven-haired teen was currently curled on one end of the couch, draped in the throw rug Dash had thrown around him about an hour or so ago when the shaking had begun to wrack through the smaller boy's body.

Danny had not said a single word in two hours.

Dash rubbed at his eye tiredly, trying to figure out what to say that he hadn't already said before.

"It wasn't your fault," he said softly.

To his surprise, this time he got a cold acknowledgment for his troubles. "Yes, it was," Danny said shortly.

Harkened by the fact that Danny was now speaking again, Dash started forward, carefully placing himself at the edge of the loveseat. Danny's blue eyes shifted over to him before glaring back down at the upholstery again.

"You did everything you could."

"You said that already," Danny responded.

"That's because it's true!" Dash exclaimed, raising himself up and towering over the other man.

Danny looked up at him again, but this time, his gaze wavered with the onslaught of blooming tears, and his brows curled downwards in misery.

"Is it?" he asked quietly.

Dash smiled encouragingly at him. "How could it be?"

It sounded like an innocent enough question, something Dash had only said to appeal to Danny's sense of logic – to make him see that he had done everything he could to save Amity Park; that he was blameless.

Danny stared at him a moment longer, then looked away. Then, in a whisper, he confessed:

"Because I knew him."

This threw Dash off. "What?"

"I knew him," Danny repeated, his voice blank, almost as if he was talking to himself. "The man who was on the video last night. I knew who he was. I met him before, and I knew what he was capable of. I saw him at the funeral for Vlad Masters the week before the football game. I knew he was in town, and I knew how violent and insane he was. I knew what he was capable of doing, and I knew he was in Amity Park.

"And I did nothing."

Danny turned to face him again, a hard look on his face. "Try to justify that for me," he bit out.

Dash was at a loss for words.

Danny buried his head into the crook of his arms, his words now muffled by the throw rug around his knees. "It's my fault Amity Park lost everything."

They remained in silence after that, and it seemed that the room grew almost imperceptibly darker as the clouds outside gathered stronger to block out the weak sunlight. The only sounds to penetrate through Dash's consciousness was the sound of Danny's deep breaths, amplified louder by the reigning silence that loomed over their heads.

Staring out the window at the cul-de-sac that comprised his neighborhood, Dash worked his brain to find some way to prove to his lover that he wasn't at fault. It was going to be a monumentally difficult task. Not only was Danny convinced that he was to blame for the events that took place the previous night, but his logic was hard to crack. But Dash knew, he _knew_, that Amity Park would have been left in far worse ruins had they not had Danny Phantom to come to their aid.

His eyes drew upwards, where he could only just see the clouds drifting by.

And then, as though by some miracle, he had an idea.

Turning around to face Danny once again, Dash reached out and curled his fingers gently around the other boy's wrist, pulling Danny out of his thoughts.

"Come with me," he ordered quietly, already starting to lead the way up the stairs and into his bedroom. Danny followed docilely, but let out a sigh when he realized where Dash had taken him.

"Dash, I'm really not in the mood..." he started the protest. Dash ignored him, letting go of his hand and striding past the bed to where the window was, and with one shove, swung the French doors open to reveal the sight of the hazy blue clouds gathered up above. He turned to glance back at Danny over his shoulder with a devilish smile. In a deliberately slow motion, he began to stick his leg out of the window, hoisting himself up on the sill and slipping off the other side.

"What are you doing?" Danny cried out in alarm. "Dash!"

Dash disappeared from view, prompting Danny to stumble forward, shocked, peering over the edge to see where his boyfriend had gone.

Dash was waiting for him just below, balancing himself upon the shingles of the slanted roof underneath the window. Danny stared, jaw hanging open.

"Nothing to worry about," Dash said softly. "Come and join me."

Danny hesitated. "I don't think we should..."

"Danny," Dash said patiently, the smile still not moving from his face, "I've done this a million times – and I know you've done way worse."

Danny hesitated another moment, then carefully threw one leg over the windowsill, jumping down and landing on his feet in a manner so agile Dash could only marvel.

"What are we doing?" Danny inquired when he finally reached Dash's brawny frame. In response, Dash got down to his knees and folded them so that he was perched in a sitting position on the roof, looking at Danny expectantly. Danny blinked, then did the same, relaxing his posture and leaning backwards so that his skin rubbed against the rows of cold shingles. The two boys kept their eyes trained on each other the entire time until Dash finally broke his gaze.

"Look." Danny followed his line of sight, and found him staring up at the swill of clouds in the distance. He turned to ask Dash what exactly was so special about this phenomenon, but the blond-haired boy was still leaning against the roof, staring reverently up at the skies.

"Sometimes," Dash said after a moment, "when I felt as though the world was closing in on me and there was no escape, I open the windows and climb out here and stare up into the night. It reminds me that the world is too big and open to ever collapse in on me."

It was only four in the afternoon, but you wouldn't be able to tell; shadows covered the earth, masking the perfectly sculpted landscape in shrouds of darkness. Danny watched as the clouds rotated in the sky, his mind wandering back his plea to Vortex to end the horrors they had endured. "What do you see?" he heard Dash ask, his voice sounding muted and far away. "Look up at the sky – what do you see?"

"They look just like they did last night," he blurted out. Dash turned to look curiously at him, patiently waiting for him to elaborate.

"Did you see them?" Danny asked quietly. "Did you look at the clouds last night?"

"No," Dash admitted. "I got back home and my dad and I locked ourselves in the rec room. I couldn't see anything."

Danny nodded, offering no more words. He recalled the way Vortex had commandeered the clouds to surround the ghost ship, the way the grey puffs had swirled around the green vessel over and over, until they encapsulated them. Looking at them now, it occurred to him that the clouds were behaving the same manner, completely out of the ordinary. Dash wouldn't have realized, and perhaps no one else would have either. But Danny did.

He knew this meant that Vortex was still out there, maintaining his vigil over the skies.

"All I see are stormclouds," Danny stated honestly.

As if in acknowledgment, the sky rattled and boomed with thunder. Dash chuckled.

"I see those too," he said, raising his hands behind his head and studying the sky with a look of concentration; "but," he pointed, "I also see glimpses of the sun breaking past the clouds; I see rays of sunlight shining down through the edges; I see the clouds moving past and trying to block it out – but whenever they pass through, I see the slightest breaks between the darkness where the light permeates through."

He straightened up, leaning forward and surveying the horizon.

"I see the sun highlighting the mountains at the edge of town; I see pink and orange hues shading the sky."

"And I see stormclouds," he concluded, turning his head to glance over at Danny before returning his attention back; "but I also see edges of around each cloud – little bits of the sun that the clouds are too weak to ever obscure, no matter how dark they might grow.

"It makes me realize that no matter how ugly things might get, this world is too beautiful for ugliness to cloud over."

When Dash turned to look at Danny again, he found the other boy keeping his eyes steadfastly on him. He gave Danny a gentle smile.

"Stormclouds come and go, Danny," he said quietly. "But they don't stay forever. They make their presence known, they pass over, and the sun comes back out again, and when it does, everywhere you look, you will see what is so beautiful about this world. That beauty can be hidden away – but it can never disappear. It always comes back to show itself again."

They lay there in silence together until Danny leaned forward and captured Dash's lips in a soft, promising kiss. It was the first time, Danny realized, that he had ever been the one to kiss Dash rather than the other way around. Danny was grateful. Dash's presence and his poetry had managed to find a way to alleviate the burden in his heart, and he was grateful.

And if anyone had dared to venture out of their homes that afternoon, what they saw would not have been a sight of destruction and devastation, but the sight of two people on the topmost plateau sharing their love as rays of sunlight broke through the clouds to shine down upon them.

* * *

Danny didn't leave the Baxter home that night. When they returned inside the house, he placed a call to the Mansons' and informed his parents that he would be staying with a friend that night. They had agreed, mainly because night was coming and they felt it too dangerous for their son to be walking on the streets at this time.

Dash and Danny had spent the evening in bed talking, assuaging the worry they felt by simply kissing their fears away. When the sun began to set, they drew the curtains and lay in bed with the darkness surrounding them, not an obtrusive darkness, but a comfortable one – the kind they had grown used to in all the days they had fought to keep their love a secret from invading eyes.

When Dash's fingers crept down to the hem of his shirt, Danny allowed them to without question. When Dash drew his shirt off his body, Danny relished in the sensation of his skin beginning to burn. And when Dash moved his lips away from Danny's mouth to tenderly brush against the delicate region of his neck, Danny closed his eyes and let himself drown in the sensation of being alive.

Danny slipped his hand down to pull away at Dash's own clothes, the two boys breathing heavily into each others faces, never releasing contact for even just a moment, as though they were afraid of being unable to touch. Dash wrapped his muscular arms around Danny's slender back, falling into the pillows and pulling Danny on top of him so that they rubbed against each other, biting out maudlin sentiments of affection into damp skin. Danny kissed at the sweat that ran down the valley of his lover's chest, ears pricking at the delicious moans he heard above him. When he sank deep into Dash, he drank in the lustful whispers that filled the air, and when he began to thrust, the sound of his name spilling from Dash's lips was his aphrodisiac. And when he crumbled down upon Dash after they had reached completion, and Dash's arms wrapped around his shoulders again, Danny felt safer than he had thought he could ever comprehend.

The next morning, Danny awoke in Dash's arms, causing the other boy to stir and blink his eyes open as Danny slipped out of his hold. Dash raised himself up in the bed and let out a tremendous yawn as he began to stretch. Danny observed his surroundings, noting with some pleasure that the room was no longer as dark as it had been the previous afternoon. Sunlight streamed through the drawn curtains, lighting the room up with a pale hue. Dash blinked away the last vestiges of sleep and glanced back at Danny with a soft smile.

"Hey," he greeted, rubbing at the bruise on his neck that Danny had given him just a few hours before. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Danny told him. It was true. Last night had been of great comfort to him, not just because of sex, but simply because he had been reunited with his boyfriend and graced by his presence.

"I should get back to Sam's," he sighed, not wanting to leave. He had never spent any great length of time in Dash's room before. He'd been in there perhaps once back when he was fourteen, but now that their relationship had changed from one of animosity to affection, he felt much more comfortable being in this room than he had been before.

"You don't have to just yet," Dash offered. "You could stay a little longer – the next time we see each other will probably be at the funeral, right?"

Danny nodded, looking away. There was a pause between them before Dash spoke again.

"That is … if you're going," Dash ventured.

Danny still refused to look at him.

"Are you?" he asked intrepidly.

"I want to," Dash said. "I want to be a part of this. Don't you?"

Danny didn't respond. Somehow he didn't need to. Dash would draw his own conclusions.

He felt the other boy lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek before sliding off the bed, pulling open his closet and throwing on a light shirt and pair of sweatpants. Danny watched him do so with great interest. "It's almost noon. How about I go down and make us some lunch?"

Dash ambled over to the windows, pulling the curtains apart while Danny ducked under the covers in haste to find his clothes. He had never felt comfortable walking around naked with the windows open, even in the instances when he knew no one would be able to see him.

"Danny," he heard Dash's voice call out. The blond stood stock-still at the window, a look of shock on his face. "It's snowing."

* * *

Dash and Danny spent the day looking out the windows watching the unexpected snowfall cycling through various emotions. Danny silently wondered what it was that Vortex was playing at, having no doubt in his mind that the ghost was the one responsible for the sudden change in weather. Dash proposed that it was a form of a nuclear winter as a result of yesterday's catastrophic events.

Their theorizing was interrupted when the telephone in the living room gave a shrill ring. Dash sighed and pulled himself away from Danny, wrapping a robe around himself and leaving to pick up the call. Danny gave some thought to making a call to Sam's house, wondering if his parents would request him to come back immediately in light of the snow, or if they would rather him not take the risk. Part of him hoped for the latter, if only because he was not ready nor willing to leave Dash's side just yet. But then, he chided himself, that was probably them calling on the phone right now.

But it wasn't Danny's parents who had just called, as he found out when Dash came back into the room.

"That was Father Julian," Dash informed, referring to the wizened old man who had led the memorial for Vlad Masters. "He wanted to know if I would be a pallbearer because they're going to need all the help they can get with the procession. He wanted to know if I would be available to come in early."

Danny frowned. "Early? What do you mean?"

Dash looked somewhat apprehensive as he said, "It seems that no one knows how long this snowstorm is going to last; after what happened last night, no one is sure of what the weather is going to bring. So it looks like they've decided to move the funerals forward … to tonight."

"_Tonight!"_ Danny yelped. "What – why are they holding the funerals tonight?"

"They're not sure if this weather is going to get worse, and they don't want to risk the ground freezing over before they start the burials. They want to get it done while the soil is still malleable enough to move around."

"So what time are they going to be held?"

"Six," Dash stated grimly.

"Well, when would you have to leave?"

"Only about an hour or two earlier,"Dash told him. "Father Julian needs me to help carry the..." he gestured lamely with his hands, trying to find some way to soften the next word, but was unable to find a way around it, "to carry the coffins. After the prayers, that is.

"And he also asked if I could come in beforehand to help lead the choir."

To his own surprise, Danny let out a bark of laughter at this. It poured out of him, until he was rolling on the bed with his stomach hurting. Dash glared down upon him.

"Oh my God," he gasped out. "I _forgot_ you used to be a choirboy." Those days had been the best. It was perhaps the only time in his life Danny had looked forward to going to church on Sunday back when his parents had tried to instill faith into Jazz and himself. He had derived endless pleasure sitting in the pews, trying to catch Dash's eye so as to openly smirk while the blond boy had been stuck on stage singing hymns in a high, almost girlish tone with a group of other children clad in white gowns. Dash rolled his eyes.

"Shut up," he groused, shoving playfully at the superhero. "I'll have you know I was the best choir boy in the damn place. Father Julian never forgot."

"I'm sure he didn't," Danny grinned mischievously. "Did Father Julian give you a _big_ reward for being such a _good boy_?"

Dash growled and proceeded to pounce on Danny, tickling his sides while the smaller teen yelped and thrashed with uncontrollable laughter underneath him. The tickles tapered off slowly as Dash began to place feather-light kisses all over Danny's face, prompting Danny to drop his teasing in order to return his affections.

"I should go home," Danny sighed once Dash pulled away from him. "I told my parents I'd get us some clothes from our house. They probably slept in their jumpsuits last night."

Dash snickered. "Oh yeah, your parents jumpsuits. Man, those are tacky."

"You seemed to like it when you were wearing one yourself."

"Well, anything looks good on a body like this," Dash bragged, causing Danny to roll his eyes and push the bigger boy off his body. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," Danny admitted. "I'll have to bring our stuff over to Sam's place, and they'll probably want me to spend the day there. I might have to come to the funeral with them."

Dash reached out and squeezed Danny's hand. "Then I'll see you there?"

Danny gave the jock a long, hard look.

"Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah, you will."

Dash gave his hand another squeeze. "I'm glad."

As much as Danny would have liked to hide away and pretend nothing had happened, he knew he couldn't allow himself to do so. He owed it to the people of Amity Park to pay his respects. It was his duty, as much as fighting the ghost army and Freakshow had been his duty. With heavy shoulders and a heavy heart, he bade Dash goodbye with a lingering kiss.

Outside was dreary and cold, far too cold for Danny to withstand walking in the snow. So, making sure nobody was watching, he ducked back into the bushes and transformed once more, taking off into the skies in the direction of his home.

Though it was only the middle of the afternoon, the sudden bout of snowfall had all but eclipsed the sun, turning the world around him so dark and dim that it imitated the onset of evening. Danny shivered as he shot through the air, considering perhaps flying up into the clouds one more time just to see what it was that Vortex was playing at with this mysterious change of weather. It wasn't snow Amity Park needed; the only thing that could quell the acrid smoke that rose up on the horizon from the scorching heat of the white beam was rain.

But when he glanced upwards, he knew it was a lost cause; the clouds hung in the sky like a great cloak, vast and impenetrable. Vortex was clearly not in the mood for anymore trespassers.

Snow was starting creep into the shell of the former townhouse the Fentons' had lived in. Danny landed on the second floor of the house, where the bedrooms were located, just underneath the laboratory in the attic. The staircase had fallen away, swept up by the destruction, and two walls had been taken out, exposing the front of the house to the street, and utterly removing what was once his sister's room out of existence.

Shaking the snow out of his already white hair and shrugging off the buildup upon his shoulders, Danny took a look around him. It was quiet; deathly quiet. Furniture had been tossed to the side, no doubt from the tremors that had shaken the very foundation of the houses in the area. Danny stepped gingerly over them, making his way to his parents bedroom, which was the only bedroom left in the house that remained completely intact, though the furnishings in there had been strewn haphazardly as well. Ducking under the frame of the king-sized bed where the suitcases were stored, Danny heaved one out and laid it upon the mattress, swinging the largest compartment open, then wrenching the doors to the closet apart, before carelessly tossing in bundles of clothing over his shoulder where they landed into the waiting carrier.

He worked unseeingly, trying to block his mind from the task he was performing, but finally, when he turned around and found that he had thrown too much into the luggage bags, he paused, standing over the suitcase blankly.

Unbidden tears sprang into his eyes, turning his vision blurry. Danny anxiously tried to blink them away, but it seemed that only encouraged them to seep through and roll down his cheek, surprisingly warm against the biting cold of sudden winter.

Once the floodgates had been open, there was no stopping the dam. Within moments, Danny's tears were streaming freely down his face; his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, leaning against the sturdy bedframe as sobs wracked through his body, causing his shoulders to heave with effort. Danny buried his face into his gloved hands, unable to mask the wails of sorrow that rang through the ruined household any longer.

It was not a matter of self-control that finally caused the tears to stop; Danny didn't know how long he had been left sitting there to wallow in his misery, but when his breathing finally mellowed, and his tear ducts dried, he knew it was simply because he had no more will left to cry in him.

Shakily, he got to his feet, his legs trembling and threatening to drop his weight again. Determinedly, he pressed down hard upon the large suitcase, forcing it down over and over again until finally he managed to get enough of a hold on the zipper to lock the compartment stuffed full of his parents clothes. There were still quite a few items left in the closet they shared, but for now, Danny decided this was enough. Now it was time for him to pack his own clothes into his own suitcase before hauling out.

Stumbling out into the corridor, he hesitated as his eyes landed upon the doorway that led to his room. What would be left of it, the room he had once been able to call his sanctuary?

Numbly he pushed open the door with the lightest of bumps from his fingertips. As though hypnotized, Danny watched hazily as the door swung gently backwards, like a dream, welcoming him to his own private hell.

The first impression Danny got, looking through the small rectangular portal his doorway had opened up to was that his room had been left completely unscathed. He could hardly believe his eyes.

The illusion was firmly dispelled, however, when he stepped through the pathway and got a full view of his bedroom. Or what was left of it. Danny felt breath leave his body in a small huff of shock. The small entryway that he had stepped through was all that remained of his former room. Beyond what was now a small ledge that had previously served as the carpeted flooring was left nothing more than a view into the great wide view of the open world that stretched the distance as far the eye could see. Behind where Danny stood were the built-in robes that had served as his clothes closet, the only remaining feature of his room.

The area where his bed had once stood was gone. The desk, and the schoolbooks he had left on it in his failed attempts at revision, was nowhere to be found. Neither were the windows that had once been directly across the bed, the ones he used to sneak out through during the night in order to conduct his nightly patrol while his parents slept. The _tree_ directly outside the window, the one he would use to gain his footing on when climbing in or out of his room had vanished entirely. The adjoining bathroom, his most luxurious amenity, had disintegrated into nothing. Not even the water pipes that had been connected to where the shower, toilet and sink once were remained. Everything that had been touched was now simply … gone.

The ledge that Danny stood on gave a loud groan, and, as he stumbled back, he watched in mute fear as a small jagged piece under the sole of his boot crumbled away under his weight. Danny shoved himself backwards, landing on his tailbone with a grunt in his hurry to get away. He paused. There was only silent stillness.

Scrambling back up to his feet, Danny decided to waste no further time. He spun around quickly to the built-in closet behind him, thankful that his clothes had, at the very least, been spared. Raising himself on the very tips of his toes, he grunted as he flung the topmost cupboard open and dug out for his very own suitcase stored within, dropping it to his feet before edging away from one of the doors so as to give it enough space to open without nudging Danny himself closed to the edge.

Once this task was done, Danny quickly set himself about with hastily pulling out his clothes and throwing them to the floor carelessly. He stopped only when he found what he required the most: a sombre black jacket and matching fitted trousers, gifted to him by his parents for more formal occasions – occasions such as funerals. He had worn it to Vlad's memorial, and would certainly be expected to wear it tonight, no doubt.

Gazing into the depths of his closet, Danny once more reached inside and gingerly pulled out a small item he had captured within the confines of his fingers: Poindexter's bowtie.

Danny let out a small shuddering breath as his fingers closed over the cummerbund. He hadn't seen the tie since the night of the Prom. Briefly he thought of Kitty and Ember, and wondered if any of the ghosts would show up – perhaps to pay respects to the innocent bystanders they had killed in their misguided venture.

Danny pivoted on his feet, turning to face the suitcase he had placed to his left, and let out a cry as his foot shot out too far, slapping against the suitcase with the side of his shoe, and causing it to jolt backwards, where it wobbled on its side before toppling over the ledge and falling to the depths below. Danny watched this, his eyes frozen on the spot where his suitcase had just been a moment ago.

The ledge underneath his feet gave a loud groan, and without even pausing to think, Danny reached down and grabbed as many clothes as he could in one hand before taking off, shooting out of the room and into the hallway just as the part of the ledge he had previously been standing on broke apart, taking several of the clothes that remained on the floorboards with it.

Heart pounding in his chest, Danny glanced down to take stock of what he had managed to snatch up. He counted out a couple of T-shirts, a few pairs of jeans, and the suit he had chosen to wear to the funeral. Danny rolled his head back upon his shoulders and let out a low groan.

He didn't dare return into the bedroom, instead choosing to pile the clothes together with those stored in his parents suitcase, opting to turn them intangible so that he fell through the plastic barrier and settled comfortably inside the compartment.

When he was done, he let out a weary sigh and raised his eyes upwards. There was only one thing left to do now.

The ladder that led up to the attic had been wiped when the house had been struck, making the laboratory that was housed upstairs inaccessible to most people. For Danny, however, being that he wasn't very much like most people, simply needed to raise himself into the air slowly, turning intangible as he went, so that his head sank through the top of the second floor and through to the ceiling of the attic. When he had gotten to his feet, he returned to his corporeal state once more, eyes sliding about to take in his surroundings.

Like the rest of the house, sections of the third floor had been affected by the attack. Walls melted into jagged edges halfway along the layout, and the floor was in a similar state. The sophisticated supercomputers his parents had designed had disappeared along with half of the room, leaving only one small lonely worktable left behind. Danny reached out for the small green telephone that was placed on the desk, bringing the receiver up to his ear. No dial tone.

Surveying the scene of devastation around him, Danny sent out a small prayer of thanks that the item he was searching for had not been hidden in the half of the room that had been hit by the great white beam.

The half of the attic that still remained was shrouded in darkness. Snow was drifting in more easily here, tinging the tile floor with a light coat. Danny felt a little shiver run down his spine, which he attributed to his body simply reacting to the abnormality of snowfall in late April.

Lowering himself to his knees, Danny dug underneath a pile of forgotten papers his parents had been building up for years, feeling past each loose sheaf until finally, his palms clamped onto something cold and metallic. Danny yanked the small object out of its hiding place, a rectangular artifact, topped with a lone green button, containing the spirit of one Vlad Plasmius.

Danny brought the container closer to his face for inspection. It looked exactly as it had the day he had left it there. He had demanded that Sam, to whom he had entrusted the container, return it back to him and had decided it would be safer up here, in the attic his parents hardly ever went up to anymore, than his bedroom where any ghost was liable to sneak in and snoop around.

Now that his house had been left only half-standing, it was no longer a safe place to hide the Plasmius soul.

Bundling the container with some spare cloth always to be found lying around, Danny phased back down to the second floor and hoisted the heavy suitcase over his shoulder with ease, taking care to have the box fastened securely in the crook of his arm before taking flight again.

* * *

Sam's heels clacked on the marble floor as she made her way to the foyer, grumbling to herself as she attempted to fasten her earrings without the aid of a mirror. Up until last year, her parents had refused to let her pierce her ears, recommending that she stick to clip-ons instead. Now that she had finally been permitted to wear real jewellery, she found the task of slipping them into her lobes to be an extremely arduous task, especially at times like these when she couldn't watch her reflection to guide her.

She paused as she entered the living room in the main hall, her eyes zooming in on Jack and Maddie Fenton standing close together and discussing something in low, troubled voices.

"Are you guys going like that?" she broke through their conversation, gesturing to the dirty jumpsuits her friend's parents were currently dressed in.

Maddie turned her eyes on to Sam. "Danny was supposed to bring us some clothes, but we haven't heard from him since last night."

The previous night, Dash had made a call to the Manson residence and informed Sam that Danny would be spending the night in his house rather than hers, citing road conditions as the reason why Danny would not be able to travel. Sam had had to fight down the urge to demand to speak to Danny herself and remind him of his ability to fly, thus rendering the condition of the roads to simply be that of a minor inconvenience to him.

"Still not back yet, huh?" Sam mused. "Is he meeting us at the church?"

"We're not sure," Mr. Fenton shrugged. "We haven't been able to get in contact with him."

"Jack, I'm not sure we should go," Maddie sighed, rubbing at her face worriedly. "We haven't seen Danny all night, and now this strange snowstorm … I have a bad feeling that grows inside me every time I look out that window."

"I'm not so sure myself," Jack muttered, his eyes redirecting themselves to the window at his wife's mention. "All I want is to make sure he's safe."

"He's safe," Sam assured quickly. Jack and Maddie turned curious eyes on her.

"Really?" Maddie asked. "Did you speak to him? Did he call?"

"I don't think his cellphone has reception at the moment," Sam excused. "But, hey, you know what they say, no news is good news, right?"

"In this case, I'm not so sure," Maddie stated grimly.

The three of them paused when they heard the sound of footsteps approaching, revealing Jeremy and Pamela Manson, dressed in fine garments of black.

"Well, are we ready?" Jeremy questioned, his eyes roving from his daughter to the two guests they were harboring. He frowned.

"Jack, Madeline – I thought you would be done getting prepared."

"Danny isn't back yet," Sam explained.

"He was meant to bring us some clothes last night, but he couldn't make the journey back, and we haven't heard from him all day," Maddie added, distressed.

Samantha's parents shared a troubled look.

"So where do you think he might be?" Pamela clutched on to her husband's arm.

"We _hope_ he's with Dash," Sam bit out. "Speaking of which, I should call him right now—" Dash Baxter had been the only person with a working telephone and a means to connect to the Mansons' last night, which was the only reason why Sam had agreed to allow him to keep Danny at his place for the night. Had she known Danny had not even so much as alerted his family to his whereabouts all day meant something.

"But we should go out looking for him," Pamela recommended. Jeremy stared at his wife.

"Pamela! We have no idea where the boy is—"

"Samantha said that he was with this boy, _Dash—_"

"We don't _know_ where that boy, _Dash_, lives—"

"Nonsense, I'm sure Samantha is familiar with the route—"

"Actually, I'm not really sure—" Sam interjected.

"The funeral starts in less than an hour, as it is that's barely enough time to get there given how carefully we need to be driving—"

"What's more important, Jeremy, attending a memorial for a hundred lost souls, or trying to save one soul if we even have the remotest chance—"

"Why don't you two go on to the funeral, and we'll go looking for Danny?" Jack tried to suggest.

"I'll help," Sam volunteered eagerly, already starting for the front door.

"Samantha, stay here!" Jeremy commanded.

Sam flung the door open.

"Oh!" she jumped back, taking in the sight of a dishevelled Danny Fenton staring back at her.

"Danny!" Maddie exclaimed. "Where were you all day? We were so worried."

Danny stalked in quietly, a suitcase hanging off his fingertips in one hand. He set it down on the floor with a loud _thump_. "I was at the house," he said in a low monotone. "I needed a little time. Sorry."

No one could think of a way to respond to that. Finally, Jeremy Manson clapped his hands together and cleared his throat.

"Wonderful," he said. "Now that we're all here – why don't the three of you get ready and we'll all leave together. Try to be quick, won't you?" he spun around on his heel and returned to the alcoves of his mansion. "Come, Pamela!"

When her parents had gone, Sam tugged at Danny's elbow. "Come on, you can use my shower," she said. "Where's your outfit?"

"Everything's in there," Danny pointed to the suitcase, leaving his parents to fiddle with it until it snapped open. Sam directed them to where they could go get ready, and set off with Danny to the direction of her room.

"What happened to you last night?" her voice was a low hiss as they slowly marched down the hall, careful of their voices carrying back to the Fentons in the foyer. It wasn't just Danny's parents Sam was concerned about; the walls had ears in the Manson estate. Too many times, Sam had let her guard down when she thought she was alone, only to find out conversations had a way of getting back to her parents through word-of-mouth of their ever-loyal servants.

Danny's shoulders sagged and he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head.

Sam gripped onto his arm tighter, stopping in her tracks and subsequently forcing him to stop as well. "Danny," she said slowly, trying her very best to, "you need to start letting me in a bit more about what's going on here. This is my town too, and I've seen too much to just be left in the dark now."

She levelled him with a glare as he turned to face her, his cerulean eyes searching her face for a moment.

"Principal Ishiyama is dead."

And with that, he continued down the hall, leaving a stupefied Sam to stare after him.

* * *

"This was a bad idea."

Jeremy Manson gritted his teeth and turned the key in the ignition as hard as he could, causing the expensive SUV to sputter loudly. Not even halfway through the distance between the mansion and the church, and their four-wheeler had given in to the snow they now found themselves entrenched in, refusing to budge even a little bit so that they could get off the road.

As the snow fell harder, the Mansons' and Fentons' sat wedged in a drift on the lane.

"This was a terrible idea."

"Yes, Pamela!" Jeremy hollered finally, unable to take it any more. "This was a _terrible_ idea. It was a terrible idea to step out of our house this evening; it was a terrible idea to get into a vehicle when there's barely even a road left to drive on; it was a terrible idea to leave the safety and comfort of our house to go pay our respects to people we've never even met before just because its expected of us – but guess _what?_ We did it anyway. We went out of the house, got into the car, and drove to the church; and now we're stuck here in the middle of the road, and we shall simply have to live with it. So we can either sit here and complain while the car continues to fail, or we can find some way to get ourselves out of this predicament and continue forward with our scheduled plans. Now, if you don't mind—" he unlocked the door, "—I'm going to find out what's wrong."

There was a shocked silence following the sound of the door slamming as Mr. Manson forced his way through the layers of snow to wade over to the engine, raising the hood up and glaring at what lay underneath. Window-wipers kept snow from blocking the windshield too much, so they were able to watch Jeremy angrily kick at the snowbank in order to free up the tyres.

"I'll help," Danny volunteered quickly,opening his own door and sliding out of the Jeep to sidle up to Mr. Manson's side. Jeremy did not turn his head to acknowledge him, but Danny knew the elder man was aware of his presence regardless.

"I don't suppose you know anything about cars, do you?" Mr. Manson muttered to him.

"Um, not really," Danny replied honestly. "But I have a car of my own, and I always manage to keep her going somehow. Plus, I'm a safer option than my dad anyway." Jeremy cracked a smile at the dig.

"I just wanted to say that I really agreed with what you said in there," he added quickly. "I mean … about how we made a decision and now we might as well follow it all the way through."

Jeremy's eyes slid over to look his way.

"My wife," he said guardedly, "does not fully appreciate the merit of perseverance . It's one of the qualities I have always tried to inspire in Samantha." He raised his eyes briefly to take in the sight of his wife and daughter waiting bored inside the SUV, then returned his attentions to the engine with a sigh. "Perhaps she is right – we don't even know those people. Maybe we should just go home; I know Sam would like to spend some time with her grandmother—"

Danny felt the edges of panic claw at him. Go back? He couldn't leave yet, not before they even made it to His Shining Grace. Yet he knew that if Mr. Manson were to raise the suggestion to the occupants in the car, there was a very good chance it would be met with unanimous favor. It was cold, it was dark, and the night was bound to be miserable. Had he had the luxury, he might have declined the chance to go as well. But he couldn't.

"And do what, Mister Manson?" he asked bluntly. "Sit at home, wait for the TV to come back on, wonder what's going on in the real world while we're hiding out waiting for someone to come find us?

"We're already out here. We're nearly at the church. Let's just..." Danny struggled to think up a word that would convey all of the emotion and all of the heartache and all of the energy he'd had to cycle through in order to get through this ordeal, "...try."

Jeremy Manson fixed him with a piercing stare. The palms of his hands were pressed against the SUV's chrome nose, frozen with ice and most likely biting into his flesh, but he did not seem to notice.

"Very well, Danny," he stated. Danny was surprised.

Sam's father had never used his first name before.

Jeremy turned back to the engine, brushing away a few flakes of snow that had managed to sneak their way under the hood. "So what do you propose we do?"

"Well," Danny huffed, facing the engine as well, with a look on his face reminiscent to the one he wore whenever confronted with a complicated math equation, "how about if you get back in and try starting the car up when I say so, and I'll try working with it out here?"

Jeremy nodded, and left Danny to slip back into the driver's seat, while Danny edged off his mittens and rubbed his hands together to encourage warmth through friction before steeling his nerves and placing his hands directly upon the engine of the vehicle. He closed his eyes and willed himself to concentrate. In his mind's eye, he focused upon the illusion of his hands resting upon the engine, thought about the oil in the filter and the coolant in the radiator, and various other mechanics he was familiar with – the one thing he did not focus on in his mind's eye was the frost.

Power pulsed through him, flowing through his veins and shooting down from where they began in his forearms all the way to the ends of his fingers, which began to shimmer a soft green glow before turning intangible and turning the engine underneath his palms intangible as well. The ice that had begun to build simply fell through the space where the engine had once been, clumping harmlessly onto the ground. Danny turned to the occupants in the car.

"Okay," he called, "are you ready?"

Jeremy gave him a thumbs up to signify he was, then turned the key in the ignition. As he did this, Danny gently cut off the current of power flowing through his hands, turning the engine corporeal once more just in time to jump back to life. There was a cheer as the vehicle began rumbling once more, ready to take off. Danny heartily brought the hood of the Jeep back down and clambered into the backseat to be inundated with congratulations.

Slowly, Jeremy began to back away from the position the car had been left in, until managing to align it correctly once again, then moved forward at barely thirty miles per hour.

"Uh, you might wanna move a little quicker, dad," Sam observed. "The way this storm's coming in, I'm guessing that that's the reason why the car stopped working in the first place."

Jeremy clutched the wheel in an even tighter grip, but gave a curt nod and speeding up. He was clearly very uncomfortable with the the split, crack-up bits and pieces of asphalt and dirt that now served as a roadway, but Samantha had a point if they wanted to get there without the engine icing over again.

"It had to snow," he muttered to himself. "It couldn't have been rain – it just _had_ to snow."

"Speaking of which, has anyone figured out what it is that's giving us this strange weather?" Jack asked loudly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought summer was coming."

There was a long silence as everybody put some thought into the question, each person trying to arrive at a suitable explanation that would satisfy all logic. All except Danny, of course, who began sweating profusely, despite the cold. He knew that the sudden snowstorm was at Vortex's will, but he was the only person who did.

"Dash said it's a kind of nuclear winter," he said boldly, stealing a look over at Sam and his parents. "You know, in reaction to that freak lightning storm or whatever it was that hit Amity Park."

"That does make sense," Maddie considered, bundling a scarf around her neck. The heater wasn't warm enough to protect them against the temperature outside at the moment.

The headlights fell upon a bevy of parked cars in the snow as Mr. Manson pulled up to the street where the church was located. Danny was relieved to see them. In fact, there were so many cars around the vicinity that none of the passengers were even able to see the church as they pulled up to an empty spot. It was going to be somewhat of a trek in order to get there.

The group of six – Danny, Sam, and both sets of parents – were visibly shivering within a few minutes of escaping the car. Though they had all known that it would be snowing, none of them were able to find something warm enough to bundle in that would have been suitable in a funeral. The wind howled in their ears as snow fell upon their crisp black outfits. In order to preserve as much body heat as he could, Danny ducked his head as close to his body as he possibly could so as to protect his throat, his hands buried deep in his pockets, and legs trudging heavily along in the packed snow.

It was the sound of soft voices that caused Danny to finally look up again.

As a welcoming orange glow filled his senses, he raised his finger and pointed ahead. "There!"

The congregation flooded the gates to His Shining Grace, a low quetch emanating through as the people huddled together to keep warm. Danny and the rest of his companions quickened their pace, finally arriving at the doors.

"Thank goodness," Jeremy breathed, checking his watch. "They should be opening up any minute now."

Danny didn't hear him. His sharp ears had caught on to the melodious chanting that seeped through the thick doors, washing him with a sense of comfort deep inside his soul. The stained-glass windows were alight, a sharp contrast to the darkness apparent to those waiting outside underneath the brewing clouds.

They waited in bated breath as the minutes ticked away. Danny closed his eyes and blocked out the cold as he drowned himself in the sound of the angelic voices he could hear singing inside. A chill ran up his spine, having nothing to do with the snowflakes that fell down upon his shoulders.

There was a great and loud sound, then with a creak, the front doors began to swing open. As he took in the emerging sight, Danny's heart began to swell.

The interior of the church was decorated by candlelight. No other source of lighting seemed to have been made available, and so the flickering flames served not only to illuminate the path ahead for the parishoners, but to also cast shadows upon the wall like grim spectres bidding them welcome.

One by one, each person stepped forward, grateful for the warmth and shelter that awaited them. Sam led the way, followed by her parents, then Jack and Maddie, and finally, Danny. As they stepped through the threshold, shaking off the last remnants of snow, they were greeted by a small child on either side of the doors, solemnly raising up long, white candlesticks for them to take. Danny accepted his mutely, following the lead of those before him by tipping the wick to a lit candle and letting the flame catch on to his own.

The enchanting voices Danny had heard outside picked up once again as he stepped closer to the pews. He drew his eyes up to the stage. Rows of children were gathered on the stage, dressed in plain white robes, with their high voices drawing out the syllables of a language Danny couldn't understand, but recognized to be some form of Latin. And in front of them, waving in hands in time to the voices like an opera conductor, leading the procession – Danny felt his throat constrict – Dash, dressed in a dark suit that complimented the pallor of his skin.

As more and more people began to file in, Danny watched as Dash held up one hand in the air, effectively silencing the children who studied his every move. With a graceful flick of his wrist, Dash began to lead the choir into a new hymn.

"_Beloved, sleep,"_ the dulcet tones began to fill Danny's ears as he slipped into a pew. _"Thy conflicts are now past, life's battles fought, thy bliss begun."_

"_And thou art crowned at last."_

"_Rest,"_ the voices rose along with the curve of Dash's finger. _"Sweetly rest. Thy tears are wiped away."_

"_Thy sighing hushed." _The dark, limpid pools of the childrens' wide, innocent eyes fell upon the masses gathered watching them, their high-toned blocking out the darkness and misery that had etched itseldf into Danny's soul. _"Thy song begun – and thine eternal day."_

"_Sweet dreamless sleep—" _Danny was astounded now to hear not only the vocals of the children of the choir, but the strong, varied tones of all those present within the church blend together and rise up to fill the hallowed walls that surrounded him. _"The Master said well done; thy weary head upon His breast, reclined at the set of the sun."_

Danny's mother was gripping his arm now, pulling him up gently, yet firmly, her mouth opened wide and singing along with the rest of them, silently urging her son to join in. Danny didn't know the words, but, his eyes returning back to where Dash was leading the choir, he trusted the others in the room to lead his way, just as they had trusted each other to lead their way.

"_We wait in hope,"_ the parish resounded, _"till He comes again._

"_We'll meet thee then, to part no more._

"_Beyond the reach of pain."_

"_Beloved—" _the voices melded together to reach higher and higher into one great crescendo, then finally breaking apart, falling away until only the voices of the children remained, dropping back down to a hushed murmur.

"_Sleep."_

Silence reigned over the congregation as the notes tapered off. Danny craned his neck upwards to get a better look at Dash as the blond boy turned in order to take a seat. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Danny's heart jumped when Dash gave him a small smile before descending from the stage.

There was a smattering of applause from an appreciative and emotional crowd. Danny's eyes trailed Dash's form as he went to take a seat next to a man whom Danny recognized to be Dash's father. There was a pause once again before Father Julian took the stage. By his feet, several of the choirmembers making their way around the pews, passing out rosaries to every person waiting for the service to begin.

The church was absolutely packed. Those who had not managed to get a seat in the pews had opted to stand instead, careful not to bump against one of the many glowing candles that had been placed around the area. The doors were wide open, and Danny could see fat snowflakes dropping heavily to the earth, but he felt none of the coldness that smothered the outside world; inside the church was warm, and the pressing of bodies along the walls kept the temperature up to a comfortable degree. Unlike Vlad's own memorial, this time, no one remained outside looking in. It was simply too cold for that.

There was a jostling at his front, and Danny's attention snapped away to glance down at a small choirgirl holding up a rosary for him to take. Slowly, Danny uncurled his fingers to wrap them around the wooden prayer beads, accepting them with a small utterance of thanks.

"My people of Amity Park," Father Julian addressed the crowd.

"Many years now, we have lived alongside fear and uncertainty. Every morning we wake, knowing that we place our lives in the hands of faith. We live alongside the dead, but only on this night have our eyes been opened to the truth: We are surrounded." The defeat in his words echoed in the souls of his listeners.

"Tonight, we bury our loved ones, the ones who were taken from us so unjustly – but as we send them to the Lord, we take with us the strength, the hope, the courage, the love that they gave to us, and we turn it into our shelter. We let our hearts grow with the knowledge that they, our brothers and sisters, reside within ourselves, and that one day, we shall leave the darkness of this world, and find them again within the Light."

"And now, let us bow our heads and pray."

On cue, the reverend's flock closed their eyes and clasped their hands together in respectful fashion, as the wizened old man before them began his sermon.

The prayers included many passages from the Bible, some of which Danny had heard Father Julian utter a million times in the past, some of which Danny could not recall ever having come across in his life. As the old man's soothing words washed over them, His eyes kept downwards, Danny watched as hot wax rolled down the candlestick in his hands, pooling around the metal candleholder at the base. He could hear isolated sniffling and muffled sobbing from the people around him. His own face remained dry and stoic, but inside Danny's body rumbled with the turmoil of churning grief.

When the prayers had finally reached their conclusion, the congregation murmured a respectful, _"Amen,"_ and it was over.

Danny got to his feet along with the rest of the assembly at Father Julian's behest, and one by one, they began to file down the asile towards the front, where members of the church were lined up holding golden cups. Danny watched as the first person accepted a small token in their hands, popping the bread into their mouths before taking the golden cup and sipping from it before moving off to the side to allow the next person through. When it was his turn, Danny accepted the bread, chewing it until it went down and took a sip of the delicious red wine that was meant to represent the blood of Jesus. His parents did the same, followed by Sam and her family.

"And now," Father Julian clapped his hands together, "we go to pay our final respects."

Tension crackled in the air as the back doors were opened. The choirmembers flitted around the room, hurriedly taking candlesticks from the churchgoers and smothering out the flames. Danny pulled at the collar of his shirt, feeling desperate for some breathing room.

A blast of cold air hit him in the face, refreshing him as he stepped out in the cold with the rest of the group. They had entered into the cemetery adjacent to the church, and Danny's eyes were immediately drawn to a stone mausoleum looming in the distance with a statue of the Virgin Mary perched on top of it. Vlad's burial ground.

Father Julian led the way, lantern in his hand, directing the unknowing troupe he had with him through the foggy terrain. Danny felt Sam's hands wrap around his arm discreetly, and offered her a small reassuring smile. Sam may have defined herself as a Goth, but when it came down to it, she, like most natural people, found herself out of her element when it came to stalking past the quiet graves. Danny, on the other hand, was so accustomed to his dealings with the dead that he was mostly just thankful that none of these people buried under his feet had the ability to move.

During the time they had been inside the church, the snowstorm had diminished, somewhat, into a slow drift. Snowflakes fell at a gentle pace, dotting the tombstones around them. Danny lifted his eyes to the sky. Though the clouds had not dissipated, they were no longer as oppressive as they had been throughout the entire day, and he was now able to catch several glimpses of the moonlight stealing through the edges as the clouds passed by.

They came to a halt. Danny craned his neck up over the heads of those in front of him, and was just able to see Father Julian as he fumbled with a set of keys in his hands before leaning down and inserting one into the black iron gates that blocked their path. With a clang and a loud creaking, the old gate was pushed open, and the old priest stood aside to let his flock move on ahead of him. Slowly, one by one, they entered through the gate into the second section of the resting grounds. Danny's breath hitched as he took in the sight before him.

Dozens upon dozens of fresh graves had been dug in the mottled earth. Inside each were plain white caskets, all of them sealed so that the bodies within them were hidden from view. Danny wasn't entirely sure he _wanted_ to know what was inside them. The white beam had vaporized everything it touched out of existence – these were probably the bodies that had only been recovered; how many more people had been completely erased out of existence, as if they had never been there at all?

Father Julian stepped past, the lantern still trembling within his grip. Beside each grave was a fresh mound of dirt. The congregation watched as their leader bent down to scoop up a handful of soil in his hand and toss it into one of the square holes, the fresh pile of earth slapping against the coffin's cream-colored surface.

As if on cue, the crowd dispersed, families trudging along together to pick graves to toss the earth into before moving along to another. Several people stopped to bow their heads and whisper a little prayer before acting. Sam left her parents side to inspect one grave curiously. Danny remained rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do.

He looked up again when he felt a small brush of skin against his wrist, finding Dash's blue eyes watching him kindly. He spared a thought for his parents, but found them together, busying themselves with a grave towards his left, so he let Dash take his palm in his own and lead him away from the gates.

They glided past the rows of graves until they reached one freshly-dug hole in particular. There were no words. Dash simply let go of his hand and lowered himself down to his knees, waiting for Danny to do the same. Danny complied, knowing without having to ask, that Dash had brought him here for a reason – this was where Principal Ishiyama was to be put to rest forevermore.

It was quiet now. All the noises around him that filtered through Danny's ears had been muted out, and all that was left in Danny's world was Dash, in that grey-black suit that made him look so mature, and the grave the stretched out before them like a gaping yawn.

Of all the people Danny had feared losing after the attack upon Amity Park, this one had hit him the hardest possibly because he had never even considered it to be within the realm of possibility. Principal Ishiyama was always _there_, someone who only ever mattered when Danny got in trouble and had be sent in to receive punishment, someone who disappeared from the recesses of his mind once he stepped out of Casper High at the end of another school-day. Now, here she was, a _person_, somebody worth thinking about, somebody worth his tears. He felt his throat well up. He had never spared her a second thought.

Briefly he wondered if _they_ were here, the monsters who had done this to the people of his town. Did they know that Amity Park was grieving on this night? Had any of them bothered to venture out of their realm to pay their respects, to grieve along with them, to atone for what they had done? Or were the lives of human beings simply too insignificant to carry any weight in the eyes of a ghost?

Well, there would be one ghost paying his respects tonight. Principal Ishiyama didn't deserve to die alone. None of these people did, and if he could, Danny would have done anything to take it all back. Failing that, the only thing he could do was whisper his regret. "I'm sorry," he said brokenly. Dash remained still, resting upon his knees with his eyes closed and hands pressed together in prayer. Danny reached up for his throat, where Poindexter's bowtie was wrapped around his collar, unfastening the knot and pulling it away from his suit. He inspected the bowtie in his hand, eyes scrunched up with the pang of unshed tears, then crumpled it with his fingers. With his other hand, he reached out and scooped up a clump of dirt. Then, he tossed the bowtie into the grave, watching it as it sailed downwards and landed softly against the white casket. With his other hand, he began to heave in the earth.

No, Principal Ishiyama would not die alone.

* * *

The moon had disappeared again by the time they were ready to go.

Not all the graves had been visited, not all the earth had been returned, but there was only so much the people of Amity Park were able to handle all at once. Within the first hour, more and more people began thanking the priest and making their leave, returning back to their abodes to wash away the mire of the day and hope for a better one to arrive tomorrow with the sunrise.

Sam had come to him and asked in a small voice if he was ready to go back. Danny had spent hardly any time with them in the cemetery, but he knew they understood that this was a deeply private matter for everyone invovled. Silently, he had shook his head, then begged for Sam to make his excuses. He knew, though he could not say why, that he wouldn't be returning to the Manson estate that night. Sam, experienced as she was, would be able to come up with a sufficient lie.

Eventually, even Dash had pulled away, needing to return home with his father. Danny nodded and thanked him with his eyes for all that he had done, highlighting it with a tender squeeze of their hands where no one could see, and Dash had departed. Danny worked diligently in their absence, grappling with the soil as he toiled to fill in the graves. His breath was ragged and his forearms ached by the time he felt a warm hand grasp his shoulder.

"You know, we have others who will take care of that by tomorrow."

Danny swivelled his head over to find Father Julian inspecting him with a curious and slighly amused glint in his eye. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny broke his gaze.

"Sorry," he said. "I – I..."

Father Julian tapped his shoulder comfortingly to still the boy's excuses. "I know, son. I know. You don't have to explain yourself to me," he smiled. "You must be absolutely chilled to the bone out here. Come with me back into the church."

Danny was indeed feeling the effects of the cold, so he nodded and got to his feet, abandoning his task to follow the old man back. Father Julian ushered him out of the burial grounds and through the wide arches of His Shining Grace, pausing to light up several candles while Danny shook the snow out of his hair.

"Rather unseasonable weather we seem to be having, don't you agree?" Father Julian sounded almost cheerful as he went about the hall providing sufficient lighting.

"Yeah," Danny said tiredly, rubbing at his face and gazing ahead, where the carving of Jesus nailed to the cross had been hung up. His eyes wandered around the room, drinking in the religious depictions that had been splashed upon the windows and the tapestries. "Just a reaction to the … unseasonable weather we had a couple of nights ago, I guess."

"You mean the ghosts," Father Julian confirmed. Danny looked up at him in surprise. "Oh, come Danny, I live in Amity Park just as you do – I understand what happened the other night. Our town has the special privilege of being witness to the deeds of the supernatural. Whether the outside world will acknowledge it or not, we know the truth."

"You know my name?" Danny asked.

Father Julian raised his eyebrows and clacked his tongue. "Let's see … Danny Fenton, son of Jack and Maddie, grandson of Alexander and Beatrice – attended Sunday school for a year, and a regular at our church services up to the age of twelve – childhood rivalry with Dash Baxter … although from what I saw earlier in the service, that hatchet has been buried for some time – yes, Danny, I think it's safe to say I know quite a bit about you."

Danny blushed at the implications of that statement. He couldn't actually mean … no one could possibly _know_ … no one except Tucker that is, he corrected himself. But one glance at the priest's face told him everything he was dreading.

Shadows played upon the old man's face as he chuckled and made his way to his podium. "So, aren't you going to, like, tell me my immortal soul is in danger or something?"

Father Julian raised his eyebrows again. "In danger, you say? My dear boy, whatever for?"

"Well..." Danny shifted uncomfortably, "you said yourself – I haven't been the most religious of people, and … you know..." he murmured self-consciously, "Dash."

Father Julian let out a low wheezing chuckle. "Oh, Danny – you're only a fraction of my age and your views on the church is even more ancient that I am!"

"It might surprise you to know that I, too, failed to find religion to be of great importance when I was a young lad. What use is the prospect of a distant afterlife to a man with all the earthly pleasures laid out for him to indulge in? I was more concerned with living in this world to worry about the next. Just like everybody else, all I wanted was to find love in my life." He leaned forward, squinting to get a better look. "Are you in love, Danny?"

Danny blushed again. There was a time he would have steadfastly denied it, but ever since the night of the Prom, there was no way left for him to hide the emotions that coursed through him. "Yes," he said.

"Then that is all you need to know," Father Julian replied. "The Lord loves all of his children, my son. He gave you a heart to guide you through your path, and as long as you remain true to your heart, you remain true to God."

"But," Danny raised his eyebrow, "doesn't the Bible disagree with homosexuality?"

"The Bible?" Father Julian glanced down at the tome that lay closed on his podium. "I suppose it does – but then, the Bible wasn't handed down to us from God, was it, Danny? The Commandments, perhaps – but the Bible was written by God's followers in tribute to what Man believed God wanted out of us." He flipped through the pages with his thumb. "But I don't believe God brought us into this world with the intention to damn us for our deeds. Our deeds we conduct on our own. Perhaps some deeds are of less purity than others may be. But I don't believe that there is anything more pure in this world than love. If you find it, Danny, then you are truly blessed. More blessed than some who were never fortunate enough to find love in their hearts."

There was a quiet moment as Danny took in the words he had just been told. When he nodded, Father Julian spread a contented smile upon his face.

"Go home, Danny. The people who love you most are waiting for you. The people out there," he nodded over to the closed doors, indicating the cemetery outside, "they have found peace and are waiting to be embraced by the love of their God. Your place is not with Him. Not yet. There's still a life waiting for you to live it. So go, and live."

Danny got to his feet, brushing off the lint from his coat. He met Father Julian's eyes again. "Thank you," he said sincerely. Father Julian nodded, walking him towards the exit, bidding him goodbye before shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Danny did not go home to his parents that night. He had no doubt Sam had told them, to some degree, not to expect him. He bundled his coat around him, and though it was cold, he did not mind at all, choosing to walk rather than fly. It felt good to stretch his legs, to feel the sting of the wind against his skin. He walked and walked until he found himself once more at the Baxter household, phasing through the front door without bothering to open it.

"Dash?" he called quietly. The house was dark, and he did not want to risk waking up Mr. Baxter, or Dash if the blond boy had fallen asleep. Danny stepped out of his shoes, leaving them behind as he tread through the area trying to make as little noise as possible. He could see an orange light burning somewhere outside, and he followed it until he found himself standing in the backyard where the swimming pool was located.

His eyes found Dash immediately, and his heart jumped with excitement. The other boy was dressed in a tight-fitting black T-shirt and a red pair of shorts, and though the snow had stopped falling sometime during his journey to the Baxter residence, Danny wondered how Dash could stand to be so underdressed in this weather.

Dash straightened up as though he could feel Danny's eyes on him, and turned to face him, a smile already curving his lips.

There were no words.

Slowly Dash moved away, stripping off his shirt to reveal familiar skin underneath, tossing it to the side as he made his way to the pool. When he was standing at the edge, he turned his head to look at Danny once again as his thumbs slipped under the waistband of his shorts. Danny's breath hitched as he watched the other boy slip the material off his waist, eyes trailing its path as it fell to the ground, unsupported.

His eyes shot back up to take in Dash's nude form, watching in awe as Dash grinned brightly before diving into the pool.

Danny cringed inwardly, imagining how cold the water must have been. Dash's head emerged from the depths, spitting out a stream of water in an arc, whipping his wet hair out of his eyes and laughing at Danny's stunned expression. Carefully, Danny dipped one toe into the water, and he let out a bark of laughter.

A heated pool. Of course.

Dash grinned again, slowly this time, enjoying the look of dawning comprehension written on his boyfriend's expression. He lifted his hand and beckoned for Danny to join him.

Ceasing all thought, Danny undid his blazer, letting it fall off his shoulders as he worked the buttons of his formal shirt, tossing that aside as well. His trousers followed next, and then when his boxers followed, Danny dived in headfirst into the water.

The two of them laughed, enjoying themselves and their illicit actions as they swam around, finally meeting up at the shallow end. Thunder boomed from the threatening clouds overhead, but neither boy paid any attention. All that existed was here and now.

Dash placed his arms on either side of Danny's form, preventing him from swimming away, and leaned his face in closer, eyes sliding shut. There was another boom of thunder, before the clouds gave way, and as Dash's lips came to meet Danny's, the clouds released, finally gushing down warm, warm rain.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, eight months later, here I am again. I promised you guys I wouldn't abandon this story, and I still stand by it. I admit I took about two months off without even looking at this fic because I needed to recharge after the last chapter, but I had no idea just how long it would take me to write a follow-up to the events of the previous chapter. It had to be done just right, something that I would be proud to add to this series, and I never realized just how long it would take to accomplish something that I would be satisfied with. I pour my heart and soul into this story because you guys, my reviewers, have made me so proud of this little fic that I started so many years ago. So many times I told myself to just screw it and submit it so that you could have an update, but I knew it would be a mistake to write something that I wasn't happy with.

So here it is. No fighting, no ghosts – just pure human emotion. It's so much easier to just write an action scene with everyone kicking ass, but the driving force and the heart of this story was never the action always been the, nor the mystery, but the frailty of the characters behind the drama. This chapter was the epitomy of everything I ever wanted to say when I started this story five years ago, and I am so, so glad that you are all here to read my words. I cannot possibly express how thankful I am to have an audience to write to, and I will never stop until this story meets the end that I envisioned.

I can't wait to read your reviews. Thank you so much for being a part of this story. Until next chapter.


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